Prompt

Prompt: I found the strangest thing in my pocket...

I found the strangest thing in my pocket today,
A thing that wasn't there when I got dressed this morning,
A thing that seemed so out of place, though it may have
Just been a thing to be given without warning.
A small piece of paper folded up smaller,
Scribbles written in crayon on the top,
I set my luggage aside to unfold it with care
Making sure I wouldn't rip it or drop it.
A picture hidden inside, messy and bright
Maggie and I standing in light,
Next to a tree with a hole in the trunk,
And a sun in the corner of the page,
I held her hand, I was in my suit and tie
She was in a yellow dress, her long brown hair drawn bluntly.
"I love you daddy, come home soon,"
I smiled softly and read,
"I'll read a story every night, and I promise I'll go to bed."
I folded the paper gingerly, and walked into the airport with my bags,
I might have been headed to India now, but my heart stayed right at home with Mags.

Having it out with Darkness

[A/N: This is not a happy thing. Don't read it if you want a happy thing. It's a very unhappy thing. This poem is about my inner battles, the two sides are represented by darkness and light. Moreover, it's based off of my decisions. I feel like they've stained me in some way, and that's why I chose to address them. Also, a lot of these lines probably aren't even required because I keep adding on to it, so feel free to provide input on what is and isn't necessary and stuff.]

When given a choice between darkness and light, darkness will always win.
Darkness will tempt you with unknown secrets, discovery draws you in.
Light is familiar, light is solid, light is safe and sound.
Light is nothing other than content, both feet on the ground.
Darkness is euphoric, darkness is wild, light is calm and quiet and mild.
Light is my savior, I'm the darkness' slave, light is my lifeline, but darkness is all I crave.
I look down deep inside myself, and light is what I lack
I searched for adventure and knowledge, and now my heart is black.
Darkness has me in its grip, and it won't go away
I'm terrified of it, yet I want it to stay.

Untitled

I am my own person
You can't hold me down
I control my actions
I refuse to drown.
I will fight for freedom
I'll spread my wings and fly
There's no way you can stop me
Don't even dare to try.

-Denise

Prompt

Prompt: What do you see when you close your eyes?

Sometimes, when I close my eyes, I see stars. Stars that sparkle and spin in the blackness, refracting light and forming colors. Colors unknown to the gray monotony of reality, creating shapes and taking me to the paradise of worlds no soul could possibly fathom. The beauty there too rich, too rare to describe.

Sometimes, I see my mistakes. The clips in my mind replay over and over, taking note of every slip in strength, every stumble in my words, every relapse, everything. The pain in those visions could push me to despair, my eyes burning hot with unshed tears, my throat closing up and choking on the unspoken words. My heart growing heavy with the feelings I’ve condemned myself to feel, too afraid to hope, to dare to dream. The weight there is always too heavy to bear for long. I try to carry on, to drag on with my burden, but I always fail, and I fall far. And I might not get up.

Sometimes, those feelings of joy bleed through. I see my dreams, all my aspirations and a better version of myself. I go through a life that’s not quite mine, my head held higher, my smile brighter, my spirit lighter. It’s a feeling of ecstasy unrivaled by anything else, impossible to be recreated in the physical world. At least, not anymore. I’ve made too many mistakes, done too many wrongs. So I open my eyes, collect my emotions once again, close the door on those dreams and lock them in with a sigh, only to return to the life I managed to escape from, if only momentarily.

Sometimes, I see nothing but darkness. It sifts and weaves through itself like thick smoke, permeating my thoughts and twisting into my mind. Devils and monsters and all the evils of the world take form and they make me cower in fear.

And sometimes, just sometimes, like Pandora’s box, all that’s left for me to see is hope.

-Denise

Prompt

Prompt: Write a poem starting with a line from a given selection, and ending with a line from another given selection. -Denise