pillow talk

the rain wanted to undo
the sun, peel off her
layers, pin her across a blue
sky turned grey –
unwind the threads, one by one
even if they were frayed
to love each hue down
into the ground, see her
true colors bloom, not fade –
arching her back, she listened closer
to what the rain had to say

wishing wells

wishing wells are wet on their insides
coins crack their bodies against rocks
slipping into the water to hide the
bottled up tears and wistful stares, absent
heartbeats, and broken cares
of strangers from the outside, tossing things in
stones and water, broken, haunted by
thoughts, greed, and helplessness from
people trying to reach the end or beginning
of things, only to bring themselves to the edge
of the cold, holding nothing in their hands
but wishing for everything to stand again
without sinking low, into the bottom of
wishing wells, where all the beautiful yet
ugly things go

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written by Tiny Fawns for daily prompt: thorny

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

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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

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