follow the yellow brick road they told me where to go and every time i looked back i could see them pointing their fingers down the same road   so i did what i was told and i went where I should drag the witch down and make her pay they told me what to do and when i stood in front of the witch with my hands trembling she just smiled sadly left the bucket where i could find it spread her arms wide as she melted and rejoined the stars     ding, dong, the witch is dead they told me to rejoice they showed me how to cheer as people congratulated me on work that i had no hand in   i thought about how the witch allowed me to live more free than anyone ever had before so the story cannot end here

my sister went to the river bend and returned without her shadow two by two, they line up in front of me mine, hers, theirs and march silently, steadily their darkness spreading like a drop of blood in crystal clear water the crystal spoke the maps are lost so I continue forwards

cold touch

i can hear myself in the sound my fingers make when they                         T A P           against my thighs and i worry that everyone else can hear it too hear me screaming without words                 who                               i am                 what i seal up my mouth and ears to hide myself but it’s not enough my body speaks on its own          it’s          not          enough you offer me the world but i already have one of my own and i don’t want to leave tap           tap                     tap                               my fingers                                                       nothing left to do nothing left to see                                  nothing is enough so everything will have to suffice

i plucked a fruit to eat but found it sour the juice was tart, the fleshy sweetness absent its texture dusty, its odor far from fragrant yet I hungered still for something to devour the tree before me, ripe with fruit and flower lured me in with colors bright and brilliant but the knowledge of its taste was not yet distant how can I know the next won't be that flavor? it's often risky, certain paths in life and we find ourselves loathe to take a step afraid of what challenge is next to meet at's true we always face hardship and strife but if we live with optimism and pep we'll find the next plucked fruit impossibly sweet

I fill myself up with dirt to keep me standing straight My hands are full and I can't break the glass Oh, just one good pen, please I walk the rusty streets an umbrella in one hand a wad of soggy cash in the other And if you thought the porcelain would crack, you haven't seen the money yet Oh, please, I'll pay anything for just one good pen I claw at the side of the cliff my breath coming out like broken glass and my fingers coming off bloody but not as bloody as the ones of the person next to me and so I keep going and going Oh, please, I'll kill for just one good pen

Prompt #3 from @julykings prompts

teach me how to be selfish teach me how to close my fists and draw my hands close to my chest show me how to know what you want and nothing else show me how to collect the stars and weave them into a crown for me and no one else i never learnt how to scream i want to live like i’ve always dreamed