[#4]
I stared at him, and I thought that my heart would cry from all that it was letting go. The feeling of total abandonment was like the way it hurts when you want to tell someone you love them, and they walk away before you can find the words. We stopped and I turned around; he was too far beyond to touch and my soul screamed empty things. The sun touched down on our tongues and the shadows brought us together; I watched our legs and arms lengthen and join, saw his hand moving.
There was this dampness in the air, the kind of day that you feel like you're drinking instead of breathing. Everything moves at a slower stupor, and the flowers drop their heads as if to bow to what they can not escape. I kiss the unmoving moments with my fingers, trace lines into the dirt on the back of his car. I don't know what to say, so I say nothing. He starts as if he knows what to say, but doesn't want to. I wish that he would speak, but his lips stay closed and he turns his face towards the sky.
"Did you ever think that there was a reason behind everything?"
Voice dripping with sweat and the salty aftertaste of things you know need to be spoken. He questions me, and I want to nod, but my head won't stir. So we sit there, silence mocking our once letter filled moments.
[#27]
It's twilight now, the moon is beginning to pour through the trees, but it hangs back just enough to hold onto those last few moments before dark. I turn to his hands wanting to smile, but my lips catch on my teeth and I stop. Where the water once ran thick and solid through the underbrush, there is just dirt, and when I shift my legs it stirs, blows up into my face. He smiles, but hides it behind his back when he moves away. I reach out to touch him and he swivels on his foot, looks at me. He says, "I'm sorry", and inches further down the road, further from where I am. For some reason I don't believe him.
This road is trailing with regret and I need to breathe. I can't find the oxygen and I want to tell him what I need to let go, but I won't. Not today. He looks at me for the last time, and all the unspoken things I've said are still above me. They float so nonchalant and I want to swipe they away and forget. But I can't.
[#45]
I sit, placid and unaware on the rug. The street lights outside are playing on the corner, chasing each other through the roads and finally shining on my window. They're warning me, playfully telling me things are still unchanged. Things are still wanting.
I turn the pages and look back, a time frame that I let go long ago. The final pages, empty. So I turn to halfway through the notebook, page number 78. I thumb the page and flick it back and forth before I begin. I breathe, and start.
[#78]
We are out on the water, and I watch him turning in the waves. I want to feel something again, but I don't know how to say this. He looks at me, so much older than before. The time that has passed is so unforgiving, so alone in all it's memories. He wants me to say something, but I don't know what it is, so I say nothing, and it feels all-too familiar. He clears his throat, and blinks, his eyes focusing on somewhere beyond me. He chokes on what he was going to say and then looks at me as if to say, "See? I have to."
And I don't want to know what has changed again, so I pick up the oars and I row back. We reach land, I get off the boat. For once I don't try to touch him, and he doesn't try to turn away. His eyes are begging for the strength that I can not give him. I turn. Walk back towards the house.
Nothing.
[#81]
I have tried to find an ending to this story. I have searched for what to say, I have tried to change it, make it so you understand. But I can not. For when I wake up in the morning, and when I close my eyes at night, all that I see is that look on his face when he knew that he would destroy something perfect.
Author notes
PROMPT: "He had that new book kind of smell; you turn the pages and something other than words has you crying."
i don't know why i got inspiration to write this from your prompt, but i did. i haven't written in so long that this is the only thing i can come up with. i know that this doesn't explain the story all that well, but i think that that is the only way to see it. because the story is unfinished. the plot, confusing, and some how...stupid. it all seems mundane to me, i don't know. it feels like when you wake up in the morning expecting things to be different and you find out that everything is exactly the same. it's that "oh fuck" when you open the curtains and the same things are outside, as untouched as always. it's that empty feeling you go to sleep with at night, when the pillows are hot and you just can't fall asleep. it's nothing, and i'm sorry.
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Tinkerbell-Or-Me
sorry i didn't give you a fresh write babe...my mind has been so full of nothing lately i can't write anymore.
i hope it's enough, for a pre-write.
♥
A contest entry
- Prose Prompt ; by Hell In Harmony.
300 points, ended January 12, 2008, 10 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - prose by whiterabbit..
335 points, ended March 4, 2008, 24 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
let it go
Comments
1 - 17 of 17
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I read this piece often.
You are stunning. -
F'n Awesome
You might like my "They Say"..but maybe not? I loved this!! You let it out!!!
http://allpoetry.com/poem/1666702
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This is fantastic. No other words to describe it. Like muted emotions allowed to tumble out and prance across the page. I'm impressed.
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I just re-read this.
girl, I want to write like you.
you amaze me. -
What are you talking about, that you suck? This was fantastic! And it won two golds! (which is basically what I've won over the total of my poems lol). This is amazing. I love the way you write, and I'm definatly going to check out more of your stuff. It's stunning.
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i love it... left me breathless...and in tears...
"He had that new book kind of smell; you turn the pages and something other than words has you crying."
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A story? Well thank goodness. I thought everyone would just enter poetry into my contest, seeing as that is mostly what I comment on. However, I am not so good at critiquing stories, so I will just generalize on how the ideas made me feel, etc and just leave it at that. And no need to apologize. I don't deduct points for not putting in a fresh piece and I think people that do, are generally idiots. Good writing is good writing, no matter when it was written.
"I sit, placid and unaware on the rug. The street lights outside are playing on the corner, chasing each other through the roads and finally shining on my window. They're warning me, playfully telling me things are still unchanged. Things are still wanting.
I turn the pages and look back, a time frame that I let go long ago. The final pages, empty. So I turn to halfway through the notebook, page number 78. I thumb the page and flick it back and forth before I begin. I breathe, and start."
- This was the most effective part for me, visually as I got lost in your words and saw the flickering of time and how things are perceived differently through all angles in our life, when we least expect it a change to happen...It most usually does.
Now I'm not sure if any words could be trimmed, etc as this is a story and perhaps reading it and feeling each word is good enough. I'm starting to think that the more emotional journey I am taken on in a piece, the more I realize the world is an ever changing landscape of questions and possibilities. This is sad writing, but also, incredibly heart felt.
I think you have some excellent writing here
and I am so glad you chose this stunning piece
for my contest. Thanks for entering
and good luck.
;
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I don't know what to say.
The way you brought the story to life left me in awe. I must of re-read it a few times with a stupid look on my face like "duhhhh.."
IT WAS AMAZING you're great at what you do..and I'm sure you'll be in chicken soup before you know it
A++
<33
Oh and i'm gonna add you on myspace if you dont mind
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"The final pages, empty. So I turn to halfway through the notebook, page number 78. I thumb the page and flick it back and forth before I begin. I breathe, and start."
that was the only contrived bit in the piece. my own other criticism is that you overemphasized the sensation of wanting to say something, but saying nothing. you spoke of it beautifully- the poem as a whole was incredibly eloquent and vivid, and i felt almost as if i was living in snapshots of your life- but you spoke of it too much.
understand that those slight criticisms don't take away from my appreciation of this piece. you are so eloquent, and describe life in a way that is so clear; you express things about yourself in such a way that i feel like reading what you say about your life is like remembering. your words and feelings capture something so universal that i can put much of myself into them. in fact, i think that is why your work is so effective. it's like looking through a window, and we can see your life- but at the same time, there is the reflection of ourselves.
and what you wrote is not mundane at all. often, we see ourselves far more harshly than other people do- and your words were of things that were *so* familiar to you. but to me, at least, your words were fresh and extraordinary. i cannot remember when i have last been so absorbed in reading poetry.
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Oh wow. This is just amazing and perfect. It's exactly the type of piece that I wanted to find entered in the contest. I was so absorbed into this piece while I was reading it. I'm just amazed. I don't know the words to express how much I love this and am stunned by it. It's fucking beautiful. Perfection.
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well, i'm glad it was enough babe. =]]
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fuck yeah you better have gotten that gold trophy.
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The feeling of total abandonment was like the way it hurts when you want to tell someone you love them, and they walk away before you can find the words. We stopped and I turned around; he was too far beyond to touch and my soul screamed empty things. The sun touched down on our tongues and the shadows brought us together; I watched our legs and arms lengthen and join, saw his hand moving.
You've captured me. I am you're character and the more I read, I become her. Its perfect.
There was this dampness in the air, the kind of day that you feel like you're drinking instead of breathing. Everything moves at a slower stupor, and the flowers drop their heads as if to bow to what they can not escape. I kiss the unmoving moments with my fingers, trace lines into the dirt on the back of his car. I don't know what to say, so I say nothing
Amazing.
Voice dripping with sweat and the salty aftertaste of things you know need to be spoken. He questions me, and I want to nod, but my head won't stir. So we sit there, silence mocking our once letter filled moments.
holy. shit. No time to write. Have to keep reading.
Not today. He looks at me for the last time, and all the unspoken things I've said are still above me. They float so nonchalant and I want to swipe they away and forget. But I can't.
Its so painful to keep reading.
He clears his throat, and blinks, his eyes focusing on somewhere beyond me. He chokes on what he was going to say and then looks at me as if to say, "See? I have to."
Fuck.Fuck. Fuck. I'm leaving a shitty comment for the quality of your writing but I don't care.
I turn. Walk back towards the house.
Nothing.
and emptiness filled with so many things.
all that I see is that look on his face when he knew that he would destroy something perfect.
This is flawles.
If you're not on my favorites.
You are going to be
ILOVEYOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
thank you so much
Goodluck
Ka
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awwwwww. lovely!
i can't believe i won gold.
awww. i'm glad you liked it.
ilyt♥
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oh this was SO DAMN GOOD.
you took the promt and used it well.
i totally wouldn't have been able to pull this off hunnie.. wow.
i mean the whole thing sounds like a journal but at the same time a seriously sad story of two people that are apparently at a lost for words, and i dont know i can't say anything really critical against this. it was ..personal. i can tell in every word.
i felt this. i loved this.
♥
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I am in awe of this. So much more than you can possibly understand. wow.
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This was fucking beautiful.
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