prompt-based

brainstorm ;

Posted on by ectoburrito

what is going on in this one hell of a disaster? your synapses are scattered all over the place, thoughts shrouded in the shadows of dark clouds; everyday a rainy parade wrecks havoc and blow things out of proportion.

i want to make sense of it, too.

when did your mind palace crumble and fall apart – how long exactly has it been? do you remember?

i’ve lost count of the days i thought were numbered.

who did this to you? someone so ruthlessly cruel, chaotic.
(tell me, i will make sure that they are gone)

im afraid that someone whom you’re referring to is not who you think it is.

where has it occurred?

everywhere. along school corridors, under the shower head, beneath the covers, in a suffocating room filled with chatter and laughter – each time feels like leaning precariously over the edge.

how are you going to build this back up?

i don’t know; i guess we’ll wait for the storm to pass and venture to pick the remnants up, muttering a silent prayer for it to to never turn.

 

#spwm2017 #spwmday1

PROMPT: write a poem which asks all the questions to which you urgently need answers.

a/n: i realized i didn’t write the prompt properly but oh well

to stardust –

Posted on by ectoburrito

i’ve watched you shoot for the stars, only to crash and go up in flames. you’ve always fell short of the stability others own – volatile enough to spark an internal collision, enough to yearn the feeling of being grounded again. the milky way may have been a space too vast to feel like you matter, but you’ve burnt the brightest at some point of time, igniting glowing splints that were on the brink of exhaustion, decimation. there is significance in taking charge of your life, believe it or not, the value in charging forward despite a polarizing world trying to tear you apart is not negligible.

the remnants of your stardust are not enough to fill the crater in hearts you have left behind in your wake; they still seep through tightly clasped palms that refuse to let go. even with some salvation, we still cannot fly to the neverland that you have escaped to in a slumber too sweet. peter pan has abandoned your shadow at every corner, it is haunting me everywhere i turn, everytime you look back.

i apologize for fervently wishing for a temporary solution that holds permanent; because now that there is an eternal solar eclipse, everyone mourns for the loss of light that has once graced their lives. i hope that there are acceptor atoms with open arms for you in alternate universes, with their capacity to accommodate your loneliness that pairs with anxiety; i hope you will never feel delocalized in your own home.

but tonight i wish to trade places, if that would mean minimizing the aftermath, the toll it takes on you and the time taken to break the surface tension that hovers when your name is accidentally spilled, as tears tug at eyes and threaten to do the same.

[singpowrimo prompt 25: write a letter to or about your future self; #GOODBYEWORLDBONUS: make it an obituary, elegy or eulogy.]