dialogue with red

you make my heart
sound louder than ever before,
all the beats crowding at the
door, wanting to climb out
the pressure rises, painting
my face red, my limbs numb
time and time again,
i forget half the words i speak
how can this strength bleed
out so weakly – i struggle to
understand the way love speaks

burning lives

we fool ourselves all of the time
thinking the world is ours
and when that fateful hour arrives
the world will show us how many lives
she still has, she burns through more of them
than cats reincarnated nine times over
tell her to sit down, watch her walk out the door
she’ll take us back to where she begun
back when she was alone, erasing
everything we’ve done

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written by Tiny Fawns for daily prompt: disobey

flowers or weeds

air, i choose to read it over the words
i heard coming from your lips
because what you let slip from your tongue
tends to skip around and not quite hit
the bullseye of the emotions you truly feel
which is why i steal looks at the air
to see if it’s been killed, poisoned by
those hollow lies and half-assed replies
words are bodies, words, air, eyes, intent,
heart, foolishness, wisdom, and greed
plant all of those seeds, and see what grows
flowers or weeds

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written by Tiny Fawns for daily prompt: sympathy

clumsy sounds

wild words, they wiggle out of our mouths
sometimes they squirm and bite at
others, rolling around like puppies on the ground
other times they just fucking suck, like shit found
on the sidewalk, especially if we just talk the talk
instead of putting actions behind those clumsy sounds

___
written by Tiny Fawns for daily prompt: peculiar

stepping onto mountain tops

We can be Olympians,
if only for our own lives.
Dig our fingernails into
mountain rock
Push ourselves to the limits,
let our feet weigh against
gravity, from the
tallest mountain peaks
run, not walk the talk

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written by Tiny Fawns for daily prompt: overcome

shelved

deafening silence
whispers and echoes louder
in the heart, compared to
the melody of a symphony,
which quiets the mind – silence
is the space in which all thoughts left
behind, clutter and cram themselves
into shelves – some of them
nightmares, some of them fairytales
i choose to keep quiet
the ones which don’t end so well

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written by Tiny Fawns for daily prompt: crescendo

toy soldiers

in the end, all heroes and villains
wield just as much power as
toy soldiers, we all melt at the touch
of an approaching death – at least
toy soldiers need not worry about
final breaths

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written by Tiny Fawns for daily prompt: finite

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