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EllaRisa
WVHS '23
80 Posts • 273 Followers • 3 Following
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EllaRisa

Coexisting

To coexist

Is all I truly want.

Read a book

with me.

To coexist

Is the beauty

Of life.

I won't pop your bubble

If you don't pop mine.

Let us stay apart

But together.

And coexist.

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EllaRisa

hm.

My last post is interesting to see now.

I had no idea how things would change.

Love is quite fickle.

They're not together anymore,

the marriage didn't happen.

Life is different now, more difficult.

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EllaRisa

That Night

Two girls in a club.

Each with a group that didn’t matter.

It was just them.

One saw the other first.

Bought her a drink.

Then they talked.

and talked

and talked

and talked

and talked

and talked.

In the blink of an eye it was 3 am.

They couldnt figure out how the time had passed

that quickly.

She took a cab back home.

Called her roomate to open the door.

4 years later they’re living together with their two kids and hoping to get married soon.

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EllaRisa

Consumed By Mind(Extended)

I could feel my brain expanding.

Stretching itself to the edges of my skull,

Threatening to leak out my ears.

Drip, drip.

I could hear it hit the tile floor.

Drip.

Drip.

I stared at the puddle.

Growing, growing.

Flowing into the cracks in between individual tiles.

g to the corners of the room.

Faster and faster it came.

It filled up to my toes.

Ankles.

Knees.

Hips.

Waist.

Chest.

Shoulders.

I got one last breath before I was engulfed by my own mind.

I bolted awake,

sitting up in bed,

the sheets clinging to my soaked thighs.

I climbed sorely off of my mattress,

sweat dripping off of me.

Drip, drip.

I could hear it hit the tile floor.

Drip.

Drip.

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EllaRisa

Consumed By My Mind

I could feel my brain expanding.

Stretching itself to the edges of my skull,

Threatening to leak out my ears.

Drip, drip.

I could hear it hit the tile floor.

Drip.

Drip.

I stared at the puddle.

Growing, growing.

Flowing into the cracks in between individual tiles.

Flowing to the corners of the room.

Faster and faster it came.

It filled up to my toes.

Ankles.

Knees.

Hips.

Waist.

Chest.

Shoulders.

I got one last breath before I was engulfed by my own mind.

Challenge
Tell the life story of a random object.
Tell the story of the life of a non-moving, non-living object (i.e. a pencil, a necklace). Poetry & prose both welcomed. :)
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EllaRisa in Poetry & Free Verse

My Job.

I sat there for hours. Watching. Waiting. She'd be here any second. I knew it was past the time she was usually home.

5:47 pm.

I knew the time, of course. I glanced over to the door again. Nothing. I looked around the room and my eyes caught on him. There he was in the living room, sitting pretty, carefully polished by the cleaner every Tuesday at 2:39 pm. I mean, he would know that, too. My competitor, I thought bitterly to myself. No, no. I couldn't think that way. He was my... friend...? No, not that. I mean, we had never spoken, but she looked at him far more often. He was "a gift inherited from her grandfather". Psshhhhh. Whatever.

5:54 pm.

But he was in great condition. Enviously, I stared at his shining hands, his numbers, the creases all cleaned carefully, grooves free of annoying, uncomfortable dirt. He was tall, taking up space almost to the ceiling, unlike me, sitting like the little lazy tubby I am on the mantel. he could stand on the ground himself. I sighed to myself in my mind.

6:09 pm.

The lock of the front door clicked and she stumbled across the threshold, grocery bags overflowing in her arms. Not a second glance for me before she speed-walked into the kitchen. But hey, she was home.

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EllaRisa

**ANNOUNCEMENT!**

ANNOUNCEMENT!

I started a book blog about a month ago, and it just dawned on me to share it with all of my friends here on theprose.com!! Thank you all, and please go check it out at:

https://ellarisa.wixsite.com/mysite

Challenge
How beautiful it is just to be person? To be alive? To have the glory of experiencing life? How beautiful is it to even be anything at all?
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EllaRisa

The Human Condition

It is a true gift to be on this planet right now. Humans are amazing creatures. Humans have the ability to look inside the minds of others. Humans have the ability to see a world far beyond themselves. Humans have a desire to explore that place, to expand their knowledge of it. Humans search for answers. Humans long for companionship, connection. We feel emotions and react to different situations. We evolve.

But for every Yin, there is a Yang. Being able to look inside one another is tiring, so why not just focus on ourselves? It's hard enough having to deal with our own raging emotions, already. We see the world beyond ourselves, and hunger for more knowledge, but what happens when we've discovered it all? or we think we have? What happens when that hunger can no longer be satisfied? Will we still have a purpose? We long for connection, but do we truly connect outside of our own minds? Can we ever be willingly vulnerable, show another being the darkest places in our minds? Our emotions run out of control, threatening to devour us from the inside. We treat other humans badly because of the color of their skin, a trait only controlled by DNA. We treat other humans badly because of what they have on the lower half of their bodies, another random, luck-of-the-draw situation. We kill others amongst ourselves, and for what? For one subdivision of humans to rule us all? What is the goal here? Fight until one side gets its way? We kill so many people. We evolve into a lazier species, constantly longing for convenience and pleasure. Our values go down by the generation.

We may be flawed. We may be imperfect. We may be doomed as a species. But we are still beautiful.

Challenge
Don’t you hate it when they beg for mercy?
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EllaRisa

Beg? Please.

I don't hate it when they beg for mercy.

In fact, I find it quite amusing.

Sometimes, I even demand that they do, just to see how far they'll take it.

I've done this far too many times to feel mercy for them.

It doesn't change my mind.

Challenge
Give Me a Hero!
Tell me about a hero. They don't have to be real, they don't have to be super. Whatever a hero means to you.
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EllaRisa

A Hero.

Practically Atticus Finch.

Lawer of the Year.

My personal therapist.

Surviving 5 kids

My father.

My rock.

An honest man, my fatherfatherfather

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