Did I really just do that?

Did I just say that?

What in the hell is wrong with me?

Did I just think that?

Wait. . .

I breathe and nothing happens

I'm still scared

She's gone

She hates me now

I know she does

I kissed her and I thought I fell

She's gone

No messages

No calls

No news

Nothing

I thought I was okay

Am I?

Wait. . .

Who am I?

What am I?

Am I anything?

Am I something?

No. . .

Never. . .

I miss you most

In the early morning hours

Because I know

Dawn is on her way, coming to taunt me

That another day is beginning without you

Dawn is reliable, but she hurts me the most

Midday is the friend that brings hope

Along with your notification sound

It never fails to make my heart leap

Midday keeps me going with his joy

Nightfall... she always shrugs,

my brusque, realist friend

Maybe tomorrow?

The longing will end?

Don't count on it-- Nightfall replies

Dawn will be here soon to wake you again

I published a poetry collection!

This has been in the making for well over a year, and I'm so so proud of how it turned out. If you like my poetry/my writing please do me a favor and check my book out or share this announcement!

Link:

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/1387509802

Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/phoenix-mind-sadie-rhoff/1142788725

Lulu com: https://www.lulu.com/shop/sadie-rhoff-and-celia-wang/phoenix-mind/paperback/product-n4zmme.html

About the book:

Phoenix Mind, Sadie N. Rhoff’s debut poetry collection, is an exploration of how to love: from first love to daydream love to upending the very idea of love itself.

This book is the culmination of lots of experiences that I've had, about trying to fall in love, about not being sure what love is, about self-love and figuring out what love means to me.

Acknowledgements:

I can't possibly share this book without mentioning some of the people here on Prose that made it come into reality. @TeaRise was the first person who convinced me that I should publish my writing, and that it was worth publishing. @Danceinsilence has always been an inspiration as well as a resource--one of the first things I did was seek out his publishing guide here on Prose. @Mnezz is always so encouraging, and such a ray of sunshine, and whose feedback continues to motivate me to keep writing. And @anarosewood has been so, so supportive through this whole process, as well as a huge inspiration. And a shout out to @coldfront @JesseEngel @zoe_eee @JimLamb @deathetix @Finder and @Ata who all offered support/suggestions about the book in a post so old you've probably all forgotten about it... :D

I never thought I'd call myself a poet, let alone publish a poetry collection, so I want to give the biggest ever thank you to everyone that gave me the confidence to go through with this. That includes everyone who reads my work, and especially everyone who leaves such lovely comments. It's such a pleasure to know so many brilliant and kind people.

So again, thank you all.

notes:

Sadie N. Rhoff is not my real name, but my pen name, and fun fact, it's an anagram of HandsOfFire, which I hope someone appreciates because I feel quite clever about it :)

Lastly, please if you want to support my writing, consider spreading the word about this book, if not checking it out yourself. I hope you all enjoy this book as much as I enjoyed writing (and even editing) it <3

.i.a.m.o.n.l.y.n.o.i.s.e.

a meaningless bother inside my head

i.a.m.b.a.n.g.b.a.n.g.

the lemon of marmelaide

.i.a.m.t.h.e.s.t.r.i.n.g.p.u.l.l.e.d.

you seek me to turn out the lights on your reality

i.a.m.s.w.i.s.s.c.h.e.e.s.e.

but in a sinful, unholy way

.i.a.m.a.n.o.f.f.b.e.a.t.

the dairy queen negro maid

i.a.m.s.o.u.l.o.f.s.w.e.e.t.

purity means i go to fuck-in church every sunday

.i.a.m.m.i.x.e.d.c.o.n.t.e.n.t.

rated xxx at times of sex appeal and chocolate

i.a.m.i.n.d.e.n.t.s.

a paragraph of bitterness

.i.a.m.t.h.e.e.x.t.e.n.d.e.d.l.i.p.

pulled over the chin to hide the phat

i.a.m.w.i.t.h.o.u.t.w.i.n.g.s.

no escape to comfort me, i just bleed and bleed thru me

.i.a.m.p.r.i.n.t.l.e.s.s.

no crime can stick to my name

i.a.m.n.o.i.d.e.n.t.i.t.y.

not much of anything, but gone away

.i.a.m.n.o.t.h.i.n.g.

i create and create, but remain the same

i.a.m.v.o.i.d.

identical to the pupil, vacancy

.i.a.m.a.w.a.k.e.

sleep tight.

Hello, Writers and Dear Readers...

Just below is the link for the new YouTube video announcing the winner of last month's challenge, announing the next one and going into it a bit, and our usual smattering of highlights from our talent. Really loved making this one today, and also jazzed about the new challenge. All mentioned writers in the video will be tagged in the comments.

The winner of last month's challenge is dctezcan, congrats!!!!

All of the entries were good, though, but dctezcan edged it out at the very last minute. It was actually a good position to be in, to have to labor over who had the post worth a C-note.

Here's the link for the video, and make sure to watch it for the other writers in mention, namely the poem, The Black Moon's Shine, by miss_em, as well as going into a couple of more reasons for liking more of our talent. The words just keep getting better on this platform.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LpC2HmG2o4U

And......... As always.......

Thank you for being here.

-The Prose. team

In Memory of Twenty twenty-two who was born on January 1st 2022 and sadly passed on 31st December 2022. The beloved child of single parent Twenty twenty-one, she was welcomed into this world to great fanfare. The first breath she took filled with hope and optimism, not a cloud in the winter sky, dreams dreamt, promises made, cheers echoed in the air.

During her short turbulent life, Twenty twenty-two touched billions around the world. She witnessed the end and resurgence of a pandemic, the economic downturn that ensued, the beginning of a war on European soil (once again), the bursting of crypto bubbles, climate change once-in-a-century now once-in-a-decade events, the continuous rise in inequality. Despite the challenges, she fought with all her might to bring us joy and planted the seeds to a better future for us all. May we continue to support the brave souls fighting injustice, the caretakers of our society and of our planet, and the ones less fortunate. And may we grow in love and tolerance for each other… always.

Twenty twenty-two is survived by her only son Twenty twenty-three who will carry on her legacy.

poems

typed up en masse

until my fingers ache

and my eyes

swim

with the black and white

of empty documents

being filled.

these are

the things i cannot say aloud

because there's something

impersonal

about writing something personal

and putting it

where the world

can see it,

a lack of intimacy

in ink

that doesn't exist

out loud.

reassurance,

knowing that

the words i say

will never be seen by friends,

but instead shared among strangers,

to be read

and forgotten.

my darkest thoughts

are passing entertainment,

a fleeting smile,

a hasty comment,

a brief flash

of truth

that maybe makes you

snap your fingers

in the grocery store

and nod

at the glow of a screen

before you remember

that you have to

pick the kids up

from school

and you put your phone away

and pick up

tonight's dinner.

it is

an impersonal form

of intimacy

to touch someone

so deeply

for such a short time.

and i'll watch

my poems buried

by more poems,

the curse

of being

(self-professed)

prolific.

and soon i won't be able

to find them at all.

even i forget

my own thoughts.

burying them

in the cemetery of my mind

so i can visit them

once a year

and eventually

stop visiting altogether

because i can no longer find the time

to dwell on

masterpieces that have passed on.

or maybe that's an excuse

i tell myself

to avoid

reliving

the experiences behind them.

poems

are my fleeting gift

to myself,

and maybe the world.

i'll

hold them out

towards the world

and wait for love.

and even if they're

made of razors

and they sink

into my skin,

i'll

stamp myself with

humor

until i'm able to pretend

that my poems aren't a confessional,

and i'll lie

to hide

the diagnosis behind them.

my poems are

brought to you

by my crippling

mental illness.

it's a corporation

that you might not have heard of,

but it's the one

that makes my fingers spasm

against the keyboard,

and it doesn't even bother to pay me

for all the work i do

to keep it alive

inside me.

i'm trapped

by the weight of the world,

hanging over

the edge

of rolls of blubber,

crusted over

with continents and oceans.

gaea binged

upon her subjects,

watched them shake

under her watchful gaze,

drunk on power

as she slid them

down her tongue,

consumed in vengeance

by the earth

that i now hoist

from her wheelchair

onto the bed

where she will toss

her sheets

to the floor,

because she's

too warm already,

sweating with the exertion

of keeping

her heart beating

and her ribs rigid

as they threaten to collapse

under her weight.

she is burdened

by her own existence,

and i am assigned to be

her caretaker,

her plan b.

when her lungs

shrivel

from breathing in smoke

and her hands

sweat

with the effort of

sitting upright,

when her body

fails,

my job

is to hold up

the weight of the world

until it breaks me,

too.

This is a collaborative poem MeeJong and I wrote together by alternating verses over a weeklong time frame. This is a really fun and meaningful way to write poetry, and I am thankful to MeeJong for inviting me onto this journey with her. So without further ado, we'll kick this off with MeeJong's verses first:

Where do you go?

Into the recesses of your mind?

When you go there

What is it that you find?

I look into the mirror of their eyes

And cannot discern truth from lies

What is the truth of my life

What is the truth of theirs?

What is real, and what is an illusion?

It can be hard to distinguish, especially when you see a combination of both.

We all have our own stories we tell with our lives.

With some scenes within us that we try to delete.

But try as we might, sometimes those special features from our lives will play the moments we edited out.

I try to be real, and portray myself as what you see is what you get.

But not every aspect of me gets shared.

I feel some guilt over that, yet I still hide those bits of me that I would rather not be associated with.

I think I need to think about how to approach this, as the story of my life keeps rolling.

Sharing the hard parts

Is what makes us human

If we were made only of highlights

We would be a tik tok reel

Or Facebook timeline

Being open to what we would rather shut out

Is where true connection happens

The connection which brings you light

When the electricity goes out

Being vulnerable brings us growth.

I need to remember this, and channel my thoughts in those moments.

Especially the times when I feel overwhelmed by it all.

Like waking up tired, and wanting to sleep the day away.

The craziness of a group of kids the day before a holiday awaits me.

I really don't want to do this today, and I feel bad for saying that.

But I have to overcome that desire to bow out, and dive in instead.

Despite any stress that awaits, I'll be glad I was there when the day ends.

And who knows? Maybe I'll make good memories in some young lives today.

All because I said yes when I didn't want to.

My body said no this morning

No it’s too cold and

No I’m too tired and

No it’s too early

But my mind said

You have responsibilities

My mind said get up and preempt the guilt

Which will eat you alive

If you give in to your selfish desires

My mind won, and you know what?

My body feels better too.

Today is going to be a good day.

I showed up yesterday, but was mentally checked out.

Patience was low, and I could have done better.

But a blessing in life, is the opportunity to try again.

Learn from the mistakes, and give it another go.

Today I will give thanks, for a life that brings me joy and challenges.

I will soak up inspiration from its providers, including your words.

Today I am thankful for a life

Full of the proof

Of positive connections

I have made

Even though I often feel unworthy

Today I remind myself

To just be grateful

And let people know

I am grateful for them

I am grateful for the connections, friendships, and bonds in my life too.

Sometimes I also don't feel like I deserve them, and maybe a flawed person like myself doesn't.

But I believe the Good Lord loves us, and put a deep desire within us to learn and improve.

I'll never stop evolving, I'll keep seeking positive change.

That is something I've been empowered to do.

I just have to think of Him, and remember that I'm not alone when it comes to doing this work.

You know that climax in superhero movies

Where the hero, facing great conflict

Is instructed

To remember who they are?

I feel like every day

In a million little ways

I’m trying to figure out exactly that

Sometimes

It’s invigorating

Sometimes

It’s exhausting

And after all these years

The only thing I am sure of

Is that I don’t believe

What anyone else says on the matter

Many factors can determine the people we become.

It can be our past, our family, our friends - anyone we've ever met.

Our faith can play a role, as can our hobbies, our passions, art that we consume and create.

Everything we do or interact with leaves an impression on who we are.

But no matter what, especially regardless of what anyone says,

We get to figure out and embrace who we are for ourselves.

It may take time, and our identity will evolve as we explore.

But part of life's journey is finding the answer to what it is that makes us.... us!

And we are worth the time it takes to get there, always.

I know I am a product of my environment

I am a product of my biology

I am a product of my geo-story

I am a product of my gender

I am a product of the myriad of elements

Which have combined to create this one life

I guess what I want to know is

What if I subtract all of those things

Then, what is left?

Or am I only able to arrive at my true self

By addition of other things

Let's do the Math and see.

Subtracting all of those things would remove some foundation of who you are.

But everything you have experienced, faced, endured, enjoyed, and loved will always be there.

And everything that you've been through, whether good or bad, will be there to stay.

Life seems to be about adding our past experiences, present experiences, and future work together.

Along with the things we were born into that we don't control.

I hope your days go smoother, and life treats you well going forward.

You are a masterpiece that was meant to be, and this world is better with you in it!

From afar

Too far away

I hate to think

Of the distance between

Parts of me

Have lost their way

From the cost

Of losing you

There’s so much left

But there’s so much gone

I fear every feeling

I fear living this way

Looking for you everywhere

Chasing after your memory

Dissipating within my regrets

Disappearing within my pain

I don’t know how to live this way