On Fire
The eye of Sauron.
At least, that's what I thought. What else would come to mind?
In the midst of the dolphins' home, a fiery whirlwind rages, opening a forbidden portal to the depths below. Flames choke the sea, igniting gas bubbles as they rise and burst. The waves writhe and quiver in response, steam hissing and spilling over a brim that does not exist. She cries for help, churning angrily and helplessly in the wake of mankind.
Soon, the tranquil blue is replaced with ashen grey. Yet the smoldering core is still visible, burning brighter than humanity's will to keep our Mother alive.
The juxtaposition of the colors is beautiful in a way. It doesn't matter. She never wanted us to find beauty in this way.
She wished for us to marvel at the design in nautilus shells, and the patterns we saw in flower petals.
She wished for us to look upwards in the Arctic, and exclaim in surprise when we watched the blue-green lights dance across the sky at her will.
She wished for us to scale and praise the intricacy of her snow-capped mountains, her pride and joy.
And she wished for us to reconnect with her one day, our flesh and bone mingling with hers as she enveloped us into her loving embrace.
But now she crumbles, leaves falling like tears from her eyes. She watches the Earth On Fire and wonders, was it ever worth it? Her muscles relax, and her bloodshot eyes close. Our Mother is tired. If we listen, we can hear her heart beat faintly, like the wings of a moth, as she is torn apart limb by limb. Day by day. Action by action.
I guess inaction is more fitting, really. We've all but killed her.
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Note: I know it's not completely on theme, but I liked the way it was going and still think it fits the prompt rather well :) Inspired by the Gulf of Mexico gas leak in 2021.
To: hurt. To: pain. To: me. To: you.
I know it's abrupt, but I do know you need to hear this. Just hear me through.
Why did you think you ever had a chance at changing their minds? Why were you so set on making sure you were liked? Why were you always so worried when small things didn’t go the way you expected it to?
I know I wasn’t clear before, but I will be now.
It’s because you’re afraid of being hurt. Again. And I know the things you’ve been through are horrible, because yes, right now, your life is literal hell. It may not be for the conventional reasons, but to you, it’t the worst thing in the world and you want it to end. I don’t blame you. I really don’t. There are things you’ve been through that are just unthinkable, and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone else. Those nights you fell asleep crying in your bed, thoughts torturing you relentlessly. Those nights that you went to sleep with one thought in your mind: “I don’t want to wake up again.” Those nights that you felt so utterly alone, bringing on sobs that wracked your body until exhaustion became your reprieve. Days bringing nothing but sorrow and more pain. Feeling so numb to the world and like you have no control over your life. I know how it feels, and I’m so sorry.
Believe me, if I could take away the hurt, the pain, I would.
But that’s not the reality of the situation. It might seem like there’s no light at the end of the tunnel, that there’s no way out of this hell. I can tell you there is, because I know some things.
You are strong. Going through this crap every single day and waking up the next itself says that you were strong enough to keep going.
You are brave. Believe me, you are. I can’t convince you of everything, but know that what you’ve accomplished just by reading this is more than I could have ever asked for. You can do this. You can.
You are beautiful. Don’t ever doubt that. Let me just put it this way: if you were a character in a book, I’d love you for every single quirk, habit, and feature of your being.
And finally, you are loved. I can’t say by whom, but know there’s a whole universe out there that loves and accepts you. They’ll be there for you when you're at your lowest. And I know words can't do justice to what they can do when you just can't seem to find a will to keep going. But I know something else too. I know they’ll be your light, the cause of your euphoria, and every time your heart beats, you won’t have to think, not even for a second, about how much these people in your world love you, even if they don’t, or can't, tell you.
You mean the world to someone.
“I want you to be your light, baby, you should be your light. So you won’t hurt anymore, so you can smile more.”
Those lines are from a song that I hold close to my heart. It holds true for us all. Please be your own happiness. Please be true to yourself. Please love yourself and accept yourself for everything that makes you you. And when times get hard, remember that there's always someone who believes in you, and that "you deserve to be loved."
“Dawn will come to the darkest of nights.”
You’ll be ok. I promise.
It’s All Fake Love - A Shakespearean Sonnet
Here, seven score years ago we begun,
You chose me from the endless seas of men.
Thou smile as bright as the rays of the sun,
Yet not realized was I as of then.
Like a sailor upon tragic waters,
Fell prey did I to thy sick deception:
As you, alike to Phorcys’ vile daughters,
Half bride, half beast, both parts baneful weapon.
But still, my support for my fated choice,
Let me not judge what thou sayest mistrust;
Nor did I find a way to speak my voice,
Thy fatal love, like poison, ne’er trust.
Love so delicate but baseless with thee,
Naught but fake and will lead to tragedy.
Unrequited
It’s the color I see when I look into her eyes,
The color I see when I look up into the night sky.
It’s the color I feel standing there, knowing she’ll never be mine.
The color I so well know, having written cliché poems all my life.
It’s the color of fingertips so cold in the ice,
It’s the color of my veins, those I so desperately want to slice.
It’s the color of the plastic cups I have sitting on my desk,
It’s the color of the salty waters, those that never rest.
But then again, it’s the color of the floor of the room
The color flecked onto the leather belt, the broom,
The color I know I felt taking my breath,
The color I knew would bring me to my death.
It’s the color I see on sleepless, restless nights
The color I see those days I spent blocking out all the lights.
It’s the color I feel standing there, knowing she’ll never be mine.
The color I so well know, having written cliché poems all my life.