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

we aren’t hollywood

we are meant to taste the
sweetness of death
because sequels are always shitty
reboots are not necessary
and prequels are ridiculous
if we were guaranteed more than this
one singular, earthly life – we’d be
spending way too many lives
just figuring out how to make
the current one right

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written by Tiny Fawns for daily prompt: continue

the ugly coin

both sides turn up an ugly
face i don’t want to see
i watch it spin and loop and spin
until half of its body is looking
back at me — two sides,
all angles boil down into
one sad truth, no matter
how much you slice and cut
and categorize, you’ll find
yourself narrowing life down
to 2 or so choices, am
i the person who takes a chance
for a choice or the option
with least resistance? either
way, no matter what
we are limited – we don’t have
two sides we can land upon
in our existence

 

haunted by goodness

a haunting hangs in the air, when
i stare too long, fixated on where our
existence could meet its time’s end,
when i reach that point, i begin
to curl up inside – as the cold mouth
of the unknown opens wide, the
presence of evil doesn’t bring me fear,
it’s the absence of goodness
threatening a little too near to my heart –
the idea of truth, long gone into ash
makes my soul feel like threads
pulled apart

hostage to the unknown

the cold feeling rolls in
across the floorboards
my heartbeat grows clammy
lungs fearful to breath
afraid to leave my thoughts out
in the open, i find it difficult
to believe, hard to grasp, that
sometimes this very moment
may be our last

ppf tenses

to think we can’t really
follow time, nor approach it
the lines are all in our head,
past, present, future
our tiny attempts
to organize what shuffles and pools together
in the brains behind our eyes
some people say over time we grow wiser
but i think wisdom is just something we gain
when we realize there is no looking back
or looking forward, but looking in at our core –
the lesson we learned which is applicable in this very
moment is our only way to be sure, that
we have taken an opportunity to be
better than before

what meets and passes the eyes

is the world waiting for us
or are we waiting for the world
were we born into this world
or born out of another?
when we unwind a scroll,
do the letters miss wrapping themselves
around one another? do they feel
thin, stretched out, exposed over the parchment
distant from one another?
at what point does love decide to walk out
leaving a cold lover’s gaze as haunted
and as thick as the fog that grazes the
crowns of mountains? do dogs
count the number of times
they walk around in circles
before lying down? does a town
feel like less of a city
without as many sidewalks,
signals, or frowning people
burying their minds into pockets
of and coffee grounds? i surely can’t
be the only one who absentmindedly
wonders deeply about these things
and all the loneliness yet serenity
each one brings

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written by Tiny Fawns for daily prompt: unfurl

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