head, heart abyss

write with lips what
can’t be said with
fingertips. the heart
grows dead if you
throw her hopes too
far into your head

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

written by Tiny Fawns for daily prompt: thorny

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

written by Tiny Fawns for daily prompt: overcome

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

written by Tiny Fawns for daily prompt: finite

taxi life

here or there
when or where
nothing is free
there is always a
taxi fare

written by Tiny Fawns for daily prompt: priceless

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

written by Tiny Fawns for daily prompt: continue

in children’s hands

i’d rather have people wrap a children’s dreams
in the most ridiculously gaudy of glittery fabrics than
make them box their hopes up and throw
them away in trashcans, all because they couldn’t do
what those children still can,
happily ever afters, love, and truth can withstand
even the harshest cold shoulders of the world
if left in the warmth of children’s hands

written by Tiny Fawns for daily prompt: enamored

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