Poems about prose

Guardian of secrets

She heard the footsteps of a broken thought dissipating upon her acknowledgement, desperate to find the source of such a haunting melody inside of her and fueled by an addiction to curiosity; she chased the echoes that which reverberated down an unfamiliar hallway. These surroundings that her weightless feet seemingly propelled her through only tempted her thirst for a long searched truth more with each stride but she must focus on her task at hand. However; with each lunge, this hallway seemed to grow longer with shape shifting walls, doors and now voices to accompany the shattering thought that she had originally pursued. With not a second passing between this realization, the scenery changed into entirely new place; One that was more eerie simply based on the fact that now she had been precariously placed at the bottom of an ascending staircase. Glancing around slightly dazed, disoriented and but with a slight twinge of exhilaration; She gathered that this must be the end, that which she had been so desperately clawing a path towards. Yet as she trembled in recovery before it, a fleeing sensation crept throughout her. “Run, run fast! Do not satiate this hunger inside you!” was projected so forcefully in her mind that she had begun to quake with doubt causing her to begin second guessing this desire, this need. Timidly, she placed a foot onto the beginning step as if it were a first kiss; wanting to proceed but hesitant of it being a mistake she supposed it is as they, curiosity kills the cat. Within in the span of blink, as if by teleportation, the door stood before her leaving even more muddling confusion. Just the mere image of it itself amplified the questioning slowly creeping inside but so far she had come that to turn away now seemed so self-defeating. Standing at least ten foot tall while easily spanning five across, the door was etched, carved, designed in a daunting imagery that would surely make one high tail themselves in any opposing direction so long as it was away from the morbidity radiating from this giant guardian of secrets. Reaching for the handle, determined to overcome this no matter what she felt pulsing in heart, she was again seemingly transported somewhere else. Upon the catchment of her breath, for this was getting exhausting, her eyes began focusing on the sites encompassing every space, every void that left no corner unfilled. This had been what she yearned, pined and sought after for as long as her memory had served; however, now she had to fight back the urge to regurgitate every crystallized emotion that had been dammed up for so long. This truth was so real, vividly playing through every scene, every moment, every second of the life forgotten long ago only to loop itself at each end. It was almost as if these images were beings of their own, standing independently of themselves in imitation of physical objects representing every horror. Off to the side tucked in a corner silently observing stood an ominous man with a crooked smirk. Upon the notice of this figure, he was at her side with no in between of his beginning and her destination. Slipping slightly backwards out of surprise, she stared wide-eyed at this gentlemen who is now easily six foot five. His grimace intensified as he uttered only one question, the ultimate decision upon her actions. “Was this worth it?” Once those words had escaped his lips, the room began to vibrate, quake and fill with a blinding light that radiated and permeated everything contained inside all while coinciding with the girl who had now fallen to her knees with hands clasped over her ears in muffled screaming. This figure, though caught off guard with such intensity at the response, knew this was his answer as well as hers. It had been worthwhile waiting to enter into the guardian of secrets and though painfully excruciating, all of their will powers have now been forged into diamonds with the exception that now it was a single, unified diamond that which the likes of nothing could shatter again. Yes, it had all been worth the journey, the journey into being.
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by Jess22
Hiding

Its kindergarten or first grade and the room is too crowded again. Everyone is wandering around the room making noise, it's very loud. The roar of the sea, or a lunch cafeteria? Twenty squeaky little voices speaking at once. Everywhere I turn there are the twins. Tall for their five years, and blond. Their small hands, looking big, are clutching pencils. Smacking my hip on the table hurts as I run past it. To get away I slip past them to the coat racks. Square wooden boxes, like three sided coffins, quiet. I push past my heavy winter coat, smell mom and dad's cigarette smoke and stand behind it. The space is small. I have just enough room to stand, one elbow out. I don't bang my head like I expect to, and stand as still as, trying not to rustle the coat.
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by weepingwillow
In the parking lot

Thankfully the car seat has cloth instead of vinyl, maroon. We'd stick to the seat. Its warm out and we're already sticking to one another. Its a bench seat, but very solid. The material is prickly, I know this because I've lost my shirt some time ago. The "e" in the Office Max sign is burnt out. A black letter surrounded by glowing white ones. I hear scratching from outside of the car with no obvious source. The stars are trying to shine through the clouds. The moon is no more than fuzz. Its like a light behind a sheet. The scratching stops. I never figured out what it was. A bruising pain in my shoulder reminds me where I am and I promptly picture the homework I haven't finished, neatly packed in my bag by book size. My leg is pushed to the left quickly. A sharp pain in my calf tenses my foot. Lengthening out my leg muscles I kick into the passenger seat and it clunks.
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by weepingwillow
Please stay

Fresh night air is moist, but not too humid. It smells like leaves that are beginning to rot. My shorts are pinching my waist and I'm walking fast to keep up. My friend's story bleeds from his mouth. Clenching in my internal organs is painful, and breathing in is a fight, and it has nothing to do with my shorts. He hops comfortably on top of the bridge railing and looks at me. Pain is visible in his pushed together eyebrows and tightened jaw. Wind picks up and he holds the rail with his legs. My body feels like it is heavier than usual, I move slowly. No quick movements anyway for fear he'll twitch. The stupid crickets won't shut up and I open my mouth to say something, anything that comes to mind. He stops swinging his outside leg. I hold out my left hand. Moving forward makes my throat tighter, so I stand still with an arm out. I hear him sigh, feel the bridge jounce, and his fingers grasping mine. I tremble and start the walk back with more air in my lungs.
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by weepingwillow