ONLY POETIC WRITERS!!
GOOD EVENING,
PLEASE WRITE A 10 SHORT-POETIC STORIES
A WORD MINIMUM OF 500 TO MAXIMUM OF 1500 WORDS
THIS NEEDS TO BE CREATIVE, TRANSFORMATIVE, ORIGINAL, & WRITTEN METAPHORICALLY.
FOR EXAMPLE:
It’s this unexplainable feeling of sadness, when my heart slows to nothing, silence intolerable yet comforting, solitude desirable more so than reailty. I refuse to wake up in the morning, refuse to face the life ahead, people, friends, strangers, myself, to live but not living. I am a walking dead soul amidst able-bodied intellects, able by thoughts and emotions, which I profoundly lack. Empty soul, mind and body, lacking a sense of purpose, sense of happiness and sense of life. A lonely creature in this earth, no one to share this dysphoria a feeling perhaps I made up. I long for the day when it’s all over gone with snap of a finger, the blink of an eye, a shot to the head and the heart. That moment when my soul evaporates into thin air, diffusing across this endless cosmos, never to be seen again. Till then will I still matter?
I learned about patience, though you ever seemed to sense frustration. I rediscovered hope, even when it seemed I could breathe only hopelessness. I trusted the next times, because I believe there’d be many. I acknowledged death, because that’s how everything ends.
being myself doesn’t take much effort. it’s being myself around others that consumes all of my energy, watching them shift and justify their discomfort.
How things went well between us. In fact, when we both realized that we were together all this time to witness the evening. You often described me as ‘a playful sentiment’ which kept on rallying in your heart. And this fondness, like iron and wine entailed a taste of softened beginnings, scented and aromatic: a pilgrim of flowers, which I was compelled to grasp you entirely and hold this charming memory before anything else would visit my mind. What a lovely evening, and the stars were all vibrant enlightening us, and while you were the only thing present in my eyes, it felt like a dream come true.
Foolishly paranoid
of a bright future.
I see what is only
detrimental to myself.
Detached.
Forgotten.
Yearning to be loved.
Asking to be held.
Apprehensive and clouded in my own space.
Clouded by my own perception
of the desolation of this world.
Why.
How could I possibly feel any less than what I have already become?
How dare I feel
confused
shameful
terrorized
and angry..
All is well
I am loved.
I don’t understand.
My eyelids weigh heavily at the tug of sleeps firm hand, but my mind refuses to submit. I play my past mistakes in a haunting nightly montage.
Each evening until the darkness breaks to dawn, I build upon the shrine of my angst. The hours vanish along with my sane thoughts as the lining of my conjuring’s sepulcher grows thicker.
As I am rearranging the wiring of my mind, I eventually pull a wire that releases me from anxiety’s catacombs and allows slumber to infest my weary bones.