Daily Writing Prompt

There is a light so blinding that it takes what it shouldn’t and leaves me with burns on my skin, angry lashes on the ground, trenches on the earth, ashes in its wake. Pieces of my heart left shattered and broken, my soul left in deep shadow. And then there is you. You are a star, bright and warm. Like the sun at dawn, that haunting time when its rays pierces the clouds and chases the night away. When its heat hovers over the earth, warm and loving in its embrace, its light making prisms out of dewfalls, touching tears…

Today was kinder than the day before. There was more cloud than sun, but the sky was not without light. The wind not without heat. The kind that hovers over your skin and grazes the crook of your nose and lights up the ends of your fingertips. There is a song playing inside your head. Over and over. You sing along with a smile in your eyes, ready to gift to a stranger. You imagine dancing like you don’t care who sees. But you don’t do it. Maybe tomorrow. Tomorrow will be even better than the day before. You look…

When asymptotes fall in love, how tragic. Two lines coming closer and closer and never meeting. He leaps out of the graph and finds the angle that computes you. Adds his devotion, undivided attention. Affection is irrational, the limit does not exist. But only for today. Tomorrow it’s a new page. You add your fears, his time is halved. Multiply love by the power of all the things you should have done. Two lines collide then come apart, asymptotes to the end. Never to meet again. *** The problem with love is that the equation is never balanced.    …

There is a light somewhere that flickers before it bursts into flame. Wildfire. It consumes and it hurts worse than darkness. You walk half a mile seeking escape, but the voices follow. Nagging. Relentless. You lay down and breathe in and out. In and out. ‘Listen to the sound of your breathing,’ she says. ‘Throw everything else away. Focus on mindfulness.’ ‘Isn’t that redundant?’ you think. But that’s a thought about words again, isn’t it? And you need to throw that away. At least right now, in this slow, short hour. In this quiet room full of strangers each carrying…