This didn't go according to plan (prompt #2)

• Today's prompt: I tried to sneak out using my window and now I’m hanging from it can you help me?

″Um, excuse me?″

Ben pulled out an earbud from his left ear and looked around. He was walking down an ordinary-looking, reasonably well-lit suburban street but it was past midnight and one can never be too careful. At least that’s what his mother keeps saying every time he leaves the house.

“Excuse me? Over here!”, came the voice again, somewhere from the darkness of the front porch of the house on his right. Ben pulled out the right earbud and shoved the earphones in his back pocket. As he was rolling the earphones and pushing them into his jeans, making them exquisitely knotted in the process, he analysed the situation: 1) it is the middle of the night; 2) there is a voice coming from the darkness, a voice he doesn’t recognise, 3) given the set-up it is likely that the voice belongs to a burglar, a robber or another sort of a criminal element; 4) but they said “excuse me”. Twice. Ben found it unlikely that a burglar would have the time for pleasantries; 5) still; they could be a murderer trying to lure him in under the false safety of politeness...

His thought process was cut short with another, this time distinctly angry, whisper and Ben realized it was a girl's voice, “hey, I'm kind of in a not-so-great situation here and I could really use some help.” Concluding that the owner of the voice probably isn’t a murderer, Ben slowly approached the house and looked around in the dark blue night. There was no one there.

“Up here,” came the voice again just as Ben began to doubt his sanity.

Looking up, he realized that there was a pair of legs wearing beat faded pink Converse, dangling from the first floor window. Using his phone as a flashlight, he gazed up from the pink Converse and recognized a girl who worked in the local cinema.

“Hi, I’m stuck and I need your help“, she said conversationally. 

So day 2. I realize this isn't that good and nothing really happens but I have an exam tomorrow and need to be doing that, okay? Maybe I'll continue this tomorrow, who knows. 

The sun and I (prompt #1)

If anyone's still here, hello, it's been a while!

One of my new year resolutions is to work on my writing, so I'm going to do this: pick a prompt every day and just write something. I'm not going to give myself any particular wordcount because this is enough of a challenge already, okay? We'll see what happens.

Without further ado, today's exercise is:

• Write about the sun as though you love it. Then write about it as though you hate it.

1. Spring equinox is marked on my calendar in capital letters. I used my best fountain pen. When it comes I let my hair ripple down my back and I wear yellow. I am courting your approval. I haven't seen much of you over the past few months and when I have it wasn't really you. Not all of you anyway. But now you are coming back as you always do.

The alarm clock goes off at seven in the morning and finds me sitting already dressed at the edge of my bed. I've missed you too much and today you are coming back.

I step out into the semi darkness of early morning and head to the highest hilltop. When I get there you haven't arrived yet but you are close. I see you first, (so beautiful) then I feel your touch (so kind). I realise I'm smiling again after so many months. Your gentle caress is slowly melting the frozen lake of my soul. The light you provide shines bright at the wasteland behind my ribs but you don't flinch. I get on my tiptoes, stretch higher, my arm, further, my fingertips.

I understand why Icarus happily exchanged his life for a chance to touch you. I would too.



2. Your glow is too strong, you burn too bright and I cannot bear it.

The scorching heat you hurl at me is evaporating my soulsap, stripping away my humanity and my clothes. Nothing matters just your greedy fingers piercing through my skin, not stopping until they trap bone marrow.
There is nothing left to see or feel, just your overbearing blinding presence.
You burn burn burn my skin without mercy till there is a frayed black hollow where my heart used to live.

People (even poets!) say you make living softer, easier, prettier.
The truth is you quicken the process of rotting.

Morning light is harsh

Morning light is harsh.

Your cracks, full of depth under the moonlight

borrowed their complexity from the stars.

Now I see they were simple mirrors,

far from black holes, deep ponds of celestial dust.

I thought I loved you,

seeing the comets seeping through your scars like sap.

You just mirrored mine.

It was me who filled you with stars.

The constellations I saw in your skin

are nothing more than pigment specks

prosaically sprawled on your milky back.

I can no longer coat your pretentiousness in metaphors -

I am tired of you.

What was enough by the candlelight

cannot compare to the glow of northern lights.

The gravity of you is suffocating.

The raspberry smell of the universe
fouled by the stench of you.

Your insecurities smell of misguided pomposity,

stale cigarettes, desperation and rotting fruit.

Your thinly veiled shallowness engages nothing more

but my gagging reflex.

Morning light is harsh.

The blurred edges of your words

mellow in the night

cut sharp like daggers
with the first light.

letters to my future boyfriend

I imagine us lying in grass and gazing up to the skies. It would be a lazy summer afternoon with sunlight filtering through the trees.
We would be young, reckless and in love. Our eyes closed as sun would be shining and we forgot our sunglasses. I wouldn't mind though because when I'd look at you, having to shadow with my hand, your face would look stunning as at times it would be bathed in sunlight. My vision would be blurred at sides and you'd look like a dream.

words

Words are the way to
enthrall me, enchant me, entice me.
If someone ever tells me
I'm a thunder with magic
spilling from my lips,
I'll be theirs
(till the echo stops)
I'll pay for this weakness in the end
for words are nothing
when the hands lie idle
but at least I'll go with your lips
on my ear, whispering
stories of Pandora,
the old gods in the skies
the lover's kiss up for rent.

Word Diary #1

28/08/11

walk in the woods/ grandma and grandpa/ cold beer/ breath of autumn in summer air/ jeux de lumière/ flower wreath/ yellow and green/ nostalgia

More

Films and books taught me how to feel.

And they are also a reason why reality simply isn’t enough for me.

I want more romance, more drama, more adventure, more epicness, morePURPOSE.

I just want MORE.