#readerwriterconnect

#imperialjuly

Catching bricks

Dropping expectations

Telling time

Telling tales

Sharing truths

Sharing lies

Living quietly

Dying loudly

Running backwards

I’m treading carefully, these riverbanks are damp and muddy, and I’m perpetually having to watch every step -

I know better than to fall again.

It’s not a constant ache, it’s just every time I get drunk and poetry flows from my fingertips and it’s all about you,

Stumbling through busy streets in massive cities, tears flowing and I swear I’d be okay if you were here.

All the poems I didn’t post; I don’t want you to have to read them, to deal with that onslaught of feelings.

It’s just; your smile didn’t get any less beautiful when you left - Was I only supposed to love you when it was convenient for you?

Damn, every girl reminds me of you, and all the music I used to listen to –

There’s a large space where you used to be; It doesn’t hurt, exactly –

I lived like this for years, but when you came I changed, and something differed in the way I was arranged –

I adjusted myself for you to fit, and now I don’t know how to fill it.

Remember us, okay? Remember there was a time when you were so in love with the notion of me

That you wasted weeks away wishing for it, and remember there will always be a version of me

Who smiled uncontrollably the first time you held my hand, Who you caught staring at you and smiled sheepishly - 

Remember the day we were perfect, At least in my mind,

Before everything came crashing down And we were lost in the wreckage.

We never danced in the rain, and we never watched fireworks, or went for walks by the river –

And I never pretended not to see your text, or cried at 2am over you, I never redid my concealer in the bathroom by the French classroom -

You were too scared to let us be what we could have been; I wrote poems you’ll never read and made playlists you’ll never see, I never felt the warmth of your arms after a long day or learnt why you love your favourite song so much,

And I never will.

We had a whole future ahead of us, highs and lows and laughs and tears and you threw it away, You let me believe it and then you threw it away.

Was it all lies? What about when you said I was beautiful,

When you showered me in compliments, when you told me I was the sun, the stars –

How could you have been so wrong about me? And now you’re realising, backtracking, retracting the promises you made

Week of (2/3 - 2/9)

As February begins and certain fleeting fascinations take hold, let’s make a conscious effort to put all cynicism to the side and just enjoy our time here.

With that being said, Prompt #37 is...

“History is made by those who love”

The bonus challenge for this prompt is for you to select a public figure who either exemplifies the struggle of African-Americans past and present who at their core promoted love.

This is a pick you media prompt so, poetry of any form is acceptable.

Have fun, learn about yourself, and as always, BE KIND.

Tag your works with

#writtenconsiderprompts

and if you’d like to ensure we find your piece please add an

@writtenconsiderations

at the end of your work.

.

For several consecutive nights I have been looking out

Towards the moon and the stars lying about.

The terrifying infinite

And the death like quiet.

.

All these nights I have tried to believe

That the world is often more than what I see.

Though I have never believed enough

To realise that it takes time

To cross tides this rough.

Enough to have faith in what someone says

To know that the new morning

Needn't be like yesterday.

Therefore to say that I believe in me?

When I haven't found anyone less worthy.

.

So, when the fear of faith gets too much to terrify,

They say to look upto the sky.

And I do. Not because I believe

But because there's got to be some place I can grieve.

For it has always been the open sky

Which stands by and listens when I cry.

.

~ aranya