Youth

I was a turtle on his back, rocking to my freedom. Set loose in a land of haste, in a world turned to badlands. I crawled to the edge of time and scored the beat of my heart to the tune of the clock. Gears shifting. Arms winding. Patience thinning. I saw myself in every one like me, but they saw no resemblance. They saw only difference. The walls around me changed with the seasons, but my temperature didn’t waver. Instead, I grew into the warmth for twelve months out of the year and was comfortable. But comfort wore like a baggy tee shirt, and I was swimming in ignorance and complacency. When I began to feel the cold, I tied the string of a balloon around my neck and lifted off ground. I floated away as the walls collapsed, no longer having a reason to stand firm. Now I weave in and out of the measure of my symphony, and replay my youth to remind me that no matter how far into the future I make it, it’s never far off behind.


https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/youth/

Your edge of the world

There are thousands of miles between

your golden coast

and mine concrete

Thousands of things to go wrong

potential for heartache

potential for loss

Potential for fresh faces turned

weather beaten moss

Thousands of reasons not to

thousands of reasons I want to

With every step towards

your edge of the world

I am more confident

that this is crazy

and more confident

in the path ahead

Just so long as it

leads me to swim

in your eyes


https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/eyes/

Carpe occasionem

Overtly

Bent on

Seizing

Every

Single

Slightly

Entrenching

Dalliance


https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/obsessed/

Buoyant

I am breathless

Blue in the face

eyes lifeless

below the surface

But if you flip

the perspective

then suddenly

My head becomes

above water

So is it

all in my mind?

Or

all in my lungs?


https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/surface/

Hung up

via Daily Prompt: Maybe


Maybe they’re not obstacles,

but mere extra steps

Forcing me to think the thoughts

I hung up to dry

but that I could never quite get

wrinkle-free

Maybe

Maybe I am set to be

the minnow to your stream

Wriggling away from

near-certain death

beneath prepubescent heels

And though I may cheat demise

a couple dozen times

Who’s to say I won’t swim

into the mouth

of my most famed predator?

Or be hung up myself?

It very well

may come to be

Maybe