musical

ample misinterpretation
as I build a world on these lyrics
never meant in their creation,

and you will never know quite why
I click it back
to play again.

--
Prompt is. . . well, I've been listening to a lot of music while doing my crazy story a day challenge, trying to get myself to write. And I keep playing the same songs over and over, because I put stories behind them, and that makes them mean so much more to me. So if I can create such detailed stories to these songs, why can't I just create one for my story today? Gah.

melodrama

there's no call for it,
these feelings of uselessness, worthlessness
and the intent to do things
I never would do
with a clear head.

I should sleep.

--
Prompt is the fact that I've had a crazy long day filled with far too much stimulation on three hours of sleep. Also, commencement ceremonies are a droning awful hell, but it was worth it to hear them call my best friend's name.

cheer

sleep won't come
to one so obsessed
with making ends meet
in an unfinished story.

--
Title is. . . not at all prompt. Prompt is the crazy writing challenge I'm doing that's sapping my want to write poems.

worm

digging through layers of dirt,
I search for the sky--

wanderer with no legs, no destination,
but up
away from the press
of water on skin.

--
Title is prompt. Went with boring interpretation of word--not enough time or motivation to do any further, and much in need of sleep.

ease

an endless sky of yellow-white
takes breaths below the sea,
for as the ship finds bottom rest
I scale another tree.

I see the shore like heron perched
upon the earth's long legs
the waves like drowning men that lurch
their corpses from the dregs

across the water carried, still
until they reach the sand--
an army mortal man can't kill
is left to my command.

a scattered field of bone bleached white
spits glory from its shine;
I reach one hand out, clench it tight,
and call the wreckage mine.

--
Title and the weird picture in my head are prompt.

seethe

I split the sky into you and me
and found peace in that morning.

You stayed up all night with glue and tape
and tried in vain to make us fit,
over and over again.

But the more you try,
the more I pull away, sticky--
angry at the sight of more attempts.
How long can you place me beside you in words
before opening your eyes
to see I'm gone.


and I never was there:
Just a prop of paper-mâché
made to fit your expectations.

Is that why you cling to this
portrayal on paper
while I greet another morning alone,
comfortable
in my half of the sky.

--
Title is semi-prompt.

rain

I cracked dry from the pressure--
drought of hiding
in a barren world where I thought
the way I was
was just for show


and the rain only came back
when I told you no.




--
Title and Vienna Teng's song 'Drought' are prompt.