You’re ten feet in front of me laughing. I walk up to shake your hand. Your smile breaks me. The heat that builds inside me is wildfire. And I think you look like my next, hungry distraction. And I hope I look like yours too. And you might have been a nightmare, but you were definitely wrapped up in dreams. And you might have been a nightmare, but at least you kept me awake. And your smile breaks me. And the heat that builds inside me is wildfire. And I think you look like my next secret. And I hope that I look like yours too. And we may have been whispers, but at least I could keep you to myself. And you might have been a whisper, but at least your voice nuzzled my ears. And your smile breaks me. And the heat that builds inside me is wildfire. And I think you look like my next dance. And I hope I look like yours too. And we may have spun in dizzy circles, but at least our steps matched. And you may have spun me in dizzy circles, but at least we always came back around. And your smile breaks me. And the heat that builds inside me is wildfire. And I think you look like my next destruction. And I hope I look like yours too. And we may have torn each other apart, but at least we built the moments worth breaking. And I may have torn you apart, but at least I razed your walls. And your smile breaks me. And the heat that builds inside me is wildfire. And I think you look like my next, infinite ending. And I hope I look like yours too. And you may have never ended for me, but at least I know I’ll stay for you too. And we may have never ended, but at least we won’t start again.

I thought I would be Majesty and stop the World

—pull this crown and take the pulse of Eternity!

Its lifeless carcass attach to my trusty fob

like some anachronistic trophy of old...

I laughed, smugly, all this while I’ve been killing Time:

why in Heaven’s name should it not at last be mine?!

—but noticed! the watch face... as it then unfolded...

with a yawn, wink and nod; “Who are you?” I inquired,

prepared to squeeze harder those little spindly arms...

“I’m a HooDoo... of you! For your Time’s sure to come:

It will arrive, take you up, pull your leg, same as mine!

Stop your minutes, cuff your hands, and freeze your digits!

You’ll not know the day, nor the hour, of your arrest!

Its hands will swoop down at you to unhook your crown,

wind you back, and forth, and have a laugh at this Power...

turning you quick to memories we’d once 'moved-past;'

forcing you to some alarming Future 'preview;'

...so that you’ll know its Time that rules us inside, out."

#ProseChallenge #LXXII

There's something in the way you say hello

A spell is cast and I am mystified

And everything I once held claim to know

Retreats my brain for a safer place to hide

My knees are weak whenever you appear

My tongue is tied for fear of words unsaid

I fall apart whenever you are near

The thought of you, the only in my head

I did not ask these feelings to consume

And dear, it's clear, your feelings aren't the same

This love remains a bud that will not bloom

A fire quelled with little left of flame

What's clear to me: my heart is wasted, for

You love me less. I, you, a little more.

Sometimes I think I’ve lived too long,

Amongst the hopelessness and despair,

Of a world full of sad sad songs,

And of people who simply do not care.

There is nothing left on this earth,

All possible boundaries have been explored,

There are no smiles filled with mirth,

And reailty has left no goals to set towards.

War and strife attack the young and old,

The veterans regret and the children fear,

For the evils of this world have killed the bold,

Wetting the cheeks of mothers with not just one tear.

Sometimes this life seems so long,

And unhappy as a frown,

For why live at all, why get along,

When there is someone else out there trying to shut you down?

The people in this world have given up trying,

So that they may simply wait until they pass,

They have reserved themselves into something cheap before dying,

As it is easier than standing up and fighting en masse.

But why shouldn’t we fight?

Isn’t each of our lives our own?

Why not stand up and take in the sight?

We have made a mistake, a world so prone.

Why not step up and take the blame?

Say we messed up, and this is wrong?

There will not be change without shame,

Without someone willing to admit, we are no longer strong?

We have suffered, to each his own,

But why must the future generation wallow?

It’s true that I think I have lived too long,

But why not make it worth it for those who follow?

I might have lived too long,

It might be my time to go,

But before I finish my song,

I want to see this world once more aglow!

Was poverty an essential ingredient

Of our sympathetic foundation?

Like blood-pie buried

Under rubble heap?

Like an orphan child

Covered in dust and smoke

Of our cannon bullets?

We named ourselves humans;

An image of kindness.

A streamline of humanity

That defines us as,

love... compassion,

Honor! & Dignity.

But what Really defines our

Humanity?

I mean,

Have you seen that fat-belly?

The fat-belly that swallowed

Our livelihood, our hunger,

And e-v-e-r y drip-

Of our blood.

Look at the homeless in February

On New York streets;

Trembling empathy as our foot steps.

Look at this little girl;

Gathered the pieces of her

Younger brother, coming of age,

Of Blood, of Tears! Of Fears!

Of Mass-ive... mess...

The crows of darkness and greed

Have conquered the internal cities.

Stained the soil with blood,

And replaced our peace with

TEARS... SCREAMS... CHAOS!

and poverty...

But what Really defines

Us, humans?

(Perhaps I should put your name

To the test, for iii your reflection!

Step forward--

Kneel! before the shrine of truth;

State your glorious victories)

...

I once saw a single mother,

Knocking on the doors

Of mercy-ness...

Regretting her desires,

Cursing her stupidity.

Not to trust

A man-being

...Again.

Sights...

And saw a lover-

A man with a broken heart

Shattered into pieces,

Melted into teardrops.

Stabbed by his own passion.

I saw...

And I’ve seen those high-heels

And fancy suits

On Hollywood walk of fame;

Both strive for the color...

Green.

And I watched...

A singer sang a song,

A player played along,

A drug dealer rolling bullets,

And a pimp wearing a golden watch

On his fists, ticking...

Counting.

On.

Dignity!

Was all this guilt and greed,

Or is it poverty in humanity?

Drink it off,

When wolves howl

At your self-pity,

Or kill a giraffe // a Lion! may it be,

And take a selfie upon your bravery.

Celebrate your victory!

And that tree though...

Won’t make you richer,

-Immortal?-

For when the earthly-rage

Fulfills its capacity,

You will harvest...

...but your greed.

#PovertyInHumanity

#MyPoverty&Greed

#Self-Destruction

#Human #Greed

#Philosophy

#Humanity

#Poverty

#Suckers #Fuckers #Motherfuckers

April 18, 2018

Sometimes I think,

I’ve lived too long.

Who knew that I

Could be so strong.

One single night

Back from my past.

Who knew this life

Would be so fast.

Sometimes I think,

I’ve lived too long.

My world explained,

Just like a song.

I cannot hunt

Throughout the day.

My life is hard,

To my dismay.

Sometimes I think,

I’ve lived too long.

My will determined,

My fate lifelong.

From my mouth,

Blood so red.

I’ve hunted bodies,

Left for dead.

Sometimes I think,

I’ve lived too long

In the end,

I wasn’t wrong.

I knew I had,

Lived long enough.

To no surprise,

My life was tough.

Sometimes I think,

I’ve lived too long.

Something that I

Should not prolong.

My death is near,

I can see the light.

Many people,

Safe from my bite.

Sometimes I think,

I’ve lived too long,

I was right,

All along.

Life of eternity,

Was a bliss.

Stake in my chest,

Did not miss.

@famewriter

Journal-

I'm keeping up with what I started at work, though that is now lost. So much has happened in the last 72 hours I can barely comprehend it. To start, at work I created dragons from the machine, and the Quartet and I are the only ones who remembered what happened. The Machine malfunctioned and a life-size dragon came out. The Quartet came and stopped it. My coworker, Harry_Situation, screeched at the fact that the Machine didn't read my paper right. The Quartet made everyone forget Prose Laboratories and it is now Prose News. My friends went from creating things to help our world to just stating what is wrong with it.

Now two dragons have come to life somehow, and I've sent them to the mountains. More probably will come. I don't know what will happen. I'm now staying with the quartet and life is somewhat crazy. Engineers have come to try to recreate The Machine to see what happened.

Gotta go, going shopping with 17 for my wardrobe.

Write later,

Just

The bright sun shines through the window, waking me up. I ait up in the bed, yawning and stretching. Looking around, expecting to see my cramped room, I was taken aback for a moment, seeing how large the room I am in is.

Then it hits me.

There's a good chance I will never have a normal life again. I will never be able to walk out on the streets unnoticed, people know who I am, just not my name. I would be bombarded by questions if I dare to step on the sidewalk. I now know the Quartet personally, and they know me. I've turned to be like OnyxCity, but more. I'm one of them now.

I slide out of the bed and open one of the doors on a wall. It opens to an empty closet. I open the door next to it, and it goes into a bathroom. I walk in and take off my clothes. I take a quick shower, dry off and put on the black jeans from yesterday and a green shirt 17 left with me. I walk into the hallway, and take two rights and down the stairs. Going into the kitchen, I see two people. One has long brown hair, is sorta tall (at least taller than me!), and the other is about my height. The one about my height runs their fingers through the front of their black hair, moving it out of their eyes.

"Uh, Mel? Firdaus? Is that you? What are you doing here? I haven't seen you guys in years!" I say to them, recognizing my old college roommates.

"Just?" Mel says, turning around to face me. "Uh crap, how are we going to explain this, Firdaus?"

"Well Just, let's just say after college, since Mel and I had the similar majors, we both became interns at this science laboratory, and we interned A for a while. We became good friends with A, and once they trusted us enough, they told us their secret. We've been helping the Quartet ever since," Firdus explains, making rapid hand motions.

"SalingerTwain filled us in on what's going on. He called us to help build this "Machine" he was going on and on about. Have you seen Allyson, TheLoneWriter, or Soulhearts?" Mel asks. "And Just, how in the world can you talk to these dragons flying around?"

"Probably because I created them." I walk towards the fridge to see if they have yogurt. They do, and I grab it, find a spoon, and eat. I look up at Mel and Firdaus staring at me with their mouths agape.

"You, you, you made these dragons?" Mel sputters. I guess SalingerTwain left out that part.

I shrug, "Well, not by myself, The Machine helped me. I just described them." They must not remember the famous Prose Laboratories, known for making fiction reality. I guess I really am the only one who remembers. I hear the pattering of feet on the wooden floor behind me and I turn around. YoungWriter comes bounding in.

"Just! Just! 17 asked me to find you. She mentioned something about clothes and your apartment. She's up in her room, rummaging through her closet," he tells me. "Oh, and Mel and Firdaus? SalingerTwain and the engineers are upstairs in the lab. They want you up there." I wave bye to those two and head up the stairs to 17. I open the black door, and her room was an explosion of blue. She is standing halfway in her closet, halfway out. Clothes are spread all over her floor, some folded, some strewn about haphazardly.

I call out, "Uh 17? YoungWriter said you want to see me?" She comes out of the closet and stares at me, and then at the floor.

"So I've started to go through my closet, see what might fit you, and what I don't wear. That way we can have you blend in. Is there any chance Firdaus and Mel go to your apartment and get your stuff?"

"I don't think that's going to happen, as they are helping SalingerTwain, and my apartment building was damaged by the dragon."

She nods her head vigorously, remembering when this started yesterday. "Okay then. I think a shopping trip needs to happen." She stands up, "Let me go check with SalingerTwain. Do whatever you want in the meantime."

"Okay, I'll be in my room," I say, walking out of her room. To the right, near the end of my hall, is my room. I walk over to the large window, and sit with my back against the wall, staring at the skyline. After a few minutes, I walk to look at the rest of the room.

In my closet, there's nothing, which is not a big surprise, but I put 17's jacket in there, so something is in there. A desk to the right of the closet has a laptop on it, and I start it up. The emblem of the Quartet pops up as the background, along with an empty account photo. Underneath the photo, it says create an account. I sit down and click on it.

Choosing one of the 8 or so standard icons, I continue to put in my information and my preferences. Once it is loaded, I navigate my way to find Google. I open up google drive with my account and create a new document.

I let my fingers flow to tell all that has happened so far.

We all have something

to un-package...

Something we’d return

or exchange...

Something missing ’mid 

the peanut puffs

of styrofoam that 

stick to us... 

with their insistent 

static cling ’gainst

our bubble-wrapped skin...

(We are so fatally Sensitive!)

...on receipt of

our Selves we pour 

years over our

own contents...  

w/pen we cross-check

our water-logged

shipping list...

(*Sigh... we’ll have to send it back!)

Step again into 

those six sides...

reposition these

bumpers, spacers 

and divides...

just as soon as...

we expire our free trial

#Boxes #Challenge #SatisfactionGuarenteed #OrSendItBack

Have a listen: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i0LRtNwiORY

I don't know when I saw you last

But all I can think about is the past.

What were you thinking when I walked away?

Did you catch the words that I couldn't say?

Stepping away from what had been ours,

Leaving behind a bouquet of flowers

Fragile petals dropping one by one

Cut off so long from the warmth of the sun.

You couldn't help but break my heart,

And now I think I'm gonna come apart.

Told me you loved me but it was just a lie

But I'm too proud to let you see me cry.

Stepping away from what had been ours

Leaving behind a bouquet of flowers

Fragile petals crushed one by one

Hidden away from the warmth of the sun.

Oh,

Oh I am stepping away from what had been ours

Leaving for you a bouquet of flowers.

© Abigail