FINAL DRAFTS

HAIKU

I'm falling apart.

You, a weathered skeleton,

Continue onwards.

STANZA:

He was a monotonous tragedy of wasted potential. 

Every morning, he'd snap his bones out of bed,

Peal his stiff muscles from the scratchy bed sheets.

He'd crawl from his lonely place of slumber,

Stumble over to the drawers of anguish and closets of rage.

Tear his skin from the hanger and step into it.

Zip up the flesh he must continually wear.

His skin was so uncomfortable.


He spent his days in utter misery.

Constantly trying to face the fact that he'd never have enough fist to punch away his anger,

Never enough love to fill the craters in his heart.

Never enough focus to replace the missing mechanics of his mind.

Never enough.



Lately was worse than usual. 

His best friends abandoned him at the first sign of vulnerability. 

He had been slowly fading into obscurity, 

and was now fully enveloped by the dark thoughts in his wandering mind.

His jovial personality had dilapidated. 

He struggled for the will to graduate. 

He could not comprehend why the sky, which is an inanimate being had more will to wake up in the morning than he did. 


But he emerged. 

Victorious.

He graduated high school. 

He found love.

He found peace and fulfillment. 

A world of possibilities opened up for him when he realized that embracing his life was going to be the biggest favor he ever did for himself. 

He let death find him alive.

FREE WRITE:

The blades of grass didn't feel like blades at all. 

They felt like tranquility.

They felt like the most beautiful bed.

The sun's rays didn't sting the way you'd imagine.

They warmed your face.

They reminded you that the brighter times are coming.

The snow fell gracefully to the ground. 

Beautiful, white, powerdy dust.

but it didn't feel the way you'd imagine.

Cold.

It made you think you'd never feel warm again.