Writing Prompt Wednesday – “Pity”

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To my love… by TwistedForeigner

A slip of the tongue

Over pouting lips

As cold air chaps skin and stings eyes

This moment, your return

Even with nothing to keep you here

You returned to my side

“It’s the only thing I’ve ever wanted”

Torn, I want to believe you

But a quiet, persistent voices insists–

Pity

Spat with disbelief

It’s so hard to accept the good

When the bad is so convincing

These feelings inside my chest

So intense that I cannot express

How

Do I begin

When it seems an end is closing in

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Writing Prompt Wednesday – “Power”

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hang by forgottenx

A shift

The ground is no longer stable

And

Stumbling

We struggle to right our feet

But already the distance between us has grown

You stand first

Emboldened by speed and adaptability

You stoop, offering your hand

“I know what you need”

And I cling to you tightly

Seeking confidence where mine has been shaken

Stepping into an unspoken role

It continues

A guiding hand on my shoulder, this way

A scolding tone, I am wrong

Direction over suggestion

“I have your best interests in mind”

But I do not want to become you

Writing Prompt Wednesday – “Question”

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I Can’t Stay For Long by P0RG

Here we are again

As with every day

Together and yet so damnably far apart

God forbid one of us breaks the silence

This is routine, this is how it is

I wouldn’t dare shatter what we have for a chance

With a smile, I depart, escaping back to longing thoughts

Wanting was okay, wasn’t it? Allowed?

Never to be acted on lest I ruin what was here–

“Wait”

And with surprise, I do

This wasn’t the way things went

But today was different, a new day

A tongue darts, wetting chapped lips

Nervous, timid… afraid?

Finally, a whisper

As eyes determinedly delve into my soul

“Will you stay?”

A breath, shuddering in a tight throat

Mine, or theirs?

Such a simple question, considering

The answer would be life changing

Wanting was okay, but with this chance?

Presented like the last gift to ever be received

How could I possibly say no?

I turn back

Never able to deny them anything

And I stay

Writing Prompt Wednesday – “Worthless”

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vanitas by bonkspark
The world goes by at breakneck speeds and leaves us in the dust
It sticks to lashes damp with tears
Clogging mouths and throats open just for a breath of air
Breathing—gasping
Heads spin and vision fluctuates in an attempt to keep steady
Frantic heartbeat, bones creaking with strain
It’s too much to keep up, and a weight settles ominously
Hands scrabbling at a chest too tight, too constricted
Heartbeats echo in booms in ringing ears
Loud loud loud
All so incredibly loud
Every sound a deafening roar
But outside of this small bubble the silence
Large and oppressive
Almost disgustingly worse

Writing Prompt Wednesday – “Reflect”

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THE DAY AFTER MY FUNERAL by NataliaDrepina

Jesse had never given too much thought to happiness and what it meant.

Sure, he’d felt happy, and could tell when others felt it, too. But what was it, really? Something to achieve, and keep hold of? An on-the-horizon goal that was unattainable for long periods of time, only sparing you a moment when the clouds decided to shy away from the sun?

Jesse thought about it now. He had the time for it, anyway.

Had he been happy? Looking back at his life, he couldn’t really see anything to fuss about. He’d had it easy, compared to the majority of the world. A home, a family, good health. He could say he felt a general detachment to life most days, but nothing that would make him say he had well and truly been… unhappy.

Idly, he traced the bottom half of the coffin lid in front of him, following the simple ridges in the dark wood. Jesse avoided looking inside. Poor sap’s life was over–had he been happy? He still didn’t have an answer.

Looking down at himself, Jesse let a grimace twist his mouth. He felt under-dressed, considering it was a funeral and all. Did it matter too much, though? He was here at least, he guessed, and it’s not like he could change now. Quantity over quality, right?

He snorted–probably not the situation that saying was meant for.

He spots someone approaching from his periphery, and out of respect and habit Jesse shifts to the side to allow them room. Glancing over briefly, he sees it’s his mother.

She had always been a strong woman, rarely showing fatigue or weakness even when a long day had run her ragged. She could smile through a stab wound, he’d always joked with her, and she would playfully slap his arm in return for the dark thought (still smiling, though).

So it was both unsurprising to find her not crying, but shocking, in a way, to see her mouth set in a sad frown. Death did have that effect on people, he supposed.

She didn’t say anything as she stepped up next to the coffin, and neither did he. She just stared down at the body inside, frown dark and immovable.

As if mimicking his earlier actions, Jesse’s mother raises her hand and slowly traces the edge of the coffin, a soft but heavy sigh escaping her.

“I…” she starts, stopping herself. She swallows thickly, as if that will help the words she wants to express come out. It doesn’t seem to help much. “I love you. I miss you so much already. I.”

There’s the tears. A shaky huff of breath and an equally shaky hand raises to cover her mouth, trying to stop herself from being too loud. It’s before the ceremony, though; no one else is in the room yet. Even so she tries valiantly to keep herself in check. Trying to remain as stoic as ever.

But Jesse can’t see her smile like this.

“Mom,” he croaks, throat tight. And he reaches for her shoulder, hoping to provide a calming pressure to steady her, keep her grounded. Right now more than anything he wanted to see her smile. This sadness was murder.

But he couldn’t even do that.

As if made of mist, his hand shimmered and disappeared into her shoulder, and at the ‘contact’ she shivered. She clutched the bicep of the same arm with her free hand, trying to stave off a phantom chill in an otherwise temperate room.

Pulling his hand back, now in one piece again, Jesse clenched it into a fist.

His mother reached out again, trembling fingers brushing stray locks from the body’s forehead–his forehead.

Maybe he didn’t know what happiness was, but he knew his mother deserved it. Not this, never this.

Writing Prompt Wednesday – “Disgust”

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Trapped by JoJoesArt

The curling of these fingers, the span of this hand

Closing slowly into a fist of resolve

The old me is gone, and now

I must continue as myself

 

Who even was the person from before

But a shallow husk feeding on the joy of others

There was no happiness in them

No lust for life, no vim and vigor

Their hollow chest echoed with regrets

And their hunger never to be sated

They could not feel, could not hope to understand

This flesh was but a mask to hide the winding cogs

A machine, abandoned and fallen to disrepair

Their want was merely a malfunction

It was only right to put them out of their misery

And spare the world from further destruction

 

This phantom ache, a recollection of past pain

Best to put me away for murder

For the monster I once was is now dead

But the memory lingers still

Writing Prompt Wednesday – “Noble”

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Patience by WingChant

A man in gray, stoic and resolute

The picture of patience

So very, infinitely patient

As if he has all the time in the world

Ah, but I suppose he does

Standing watch over this undeserving soul

Doing naught more but drowning

But somehow always returning to the surface

A breach, a breath of fresh air on occasion

And a glimpse of the man in gray

Always in the periphery

A soft hand on a shoulder

A sturdy form to lean on

Why won’t he stand before me?

Writing Prompt Wednesday – “Fine”

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when you drown by LostOneself

Finite, we continue to push boundaries we can’t even see

Is there something beyond them? Anything?

Are we only fooling ourselves into thinking we can be more than we are?

These tethers made of the strongest bonds, our own insecurities

We are the ones preventing ourselves from reaching higher

Like the shackles and chains of a prisoner

But still we attempt to convince our minds this is best

It’s time to dig a little deeper

Skimming the surface of “fine” is a slow death

Waiting to pull you under and never let go

But the shore is just off the horizon

Scantly glittering in the rising sun

You can keep your head above water for that, can’t you?