She picked the room
with just enough space
for two people
and a poltergeist.
She sat by south-facing windows
and wrote while she waited
and waited
and waited
until the door drifted open
like a slack jaw
and the whole building
crumbled.
Who, but a ghost,
would keep returning
to the wreckage
where a home used to be?
Yet another personification of a battered heart
acrylics ai art anti-poem anti-poetry art artificial intelligence artists creative creative prompts Creative Writing free verse generative art letting the dead rest listen love napowrimo napowrimo2022 napowrimo2023 Napowrimo 2024 nothing to do but poom ode paintings peace philosophy Poem poet Poetry poetry community poetry prompts Poets poets and writers Prose prose poem reality rhyme shadow work sometimes just being alive is a poem spiritual malaise surrealism that’s magic baby weird world Writers writing writing community writing prompts
Lizzy Burnam 🐞 