Lottery (an acrostic poem)

Living day to day, depending on his luck for sustenance

Orbiting his need for money and his need to be creative

The two pulling in opposite directions, their tidal forces ripping him apart

Today was a day where art and hunger went hand in hand as he painted

Every ounce of his imagination was placed on the canvas stroke by stroke

Revealing a mixture of magic and his soul, bound in sweat and paint

Yet it didn’t sell, leaving him destitute and feeling like he lost at life

Complete (an acrostic poem)

Image: c4.wallpaperflare.com/wallpaper/69/161/255/fantasy-city-banner-horse-wallpaper-preview.jpg

Carnage had been prophesied since the day of her birth

Obliterate the evil, or else she would fail, and the world would burn

Many people tried to guide her, their interests, they felt, were the same as hers

Pulling her six different ways at once, she ended up pitting them against each other

Letting their division give her the room to find her own way

Everything was going well.  The darkness was beaten back.

The final battle took place, and in the end, she was victorious

Everyone’s cheers turned to screams when she didn’t stop and began attacking them

Operate (an acrostic poem)

https://cdnb.artstation.com/p/assets/images/images/032/634/843/large/rahul-singh-wrecking-ball-crane6.jpg

Old things had to make way for the new

Pulling back on the lever, the wrecking ball swung and smashed into the wall

Everywhere the ball hit, destruction reigned

Reducing the old structure into historic rubble

And she knew she was good at what she was doing

The crane danced to her choreography, each pirouette punctuated by the boom of connection

Enabling her to place the final period to that building’s story

Fragile (an acrostic poem)

Image: api.nationalmarker.com/Data/Media/Catalog/800/214135fa-d792-45c1-8417-a98edea97171LR05AL.jpg

Focusing on her reflection in the mirror

Rachel wondered how she could go on

After everything she’d been through, there was so little left

Glass was far more robust than her current mental state

It felt like at any moment she would shatter into a million pieces

Leaving emotional shards across the floor

Except that’s when her son came by and gave her a hug, pulling her back together.

Stitch (an acrostic poem)

Image: upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/1/1f/Needle_and_red_thread.jpg

Systematic suturing of her emotional wounds

The pain of sewing the gash to her psyche was almost unbearable

It continued to throb years later, but the echoes of the horrific laceration kept getting weaker

They left the itch of wanting to see if she had healed enough yet

Cutting loose and pulling out each piece of mental floss

Her battle scar, now exposed, made her proud of not only surviving but healing

Spoon (an acrostic poem)

Image: happiful.com/content/images/2019/03/shutterstock_492627343-min.jpg

She cuddled up to him under the covers

Pulling her body along his to get warm

Outside the wind blew and the cold rain fell

Outside the chaos of jobs and bills demanded attention and yet…

None of that mattered.  They were together in that moment

Sink (an acrostic poem)

Image: i.pinimg.com/originals/eb/ff/49/ebff49a95ae85094f5b1354762d78609.jpg

So you feel like you’re going to go under

Icy hands of doubt and self-loathing pulling you down into your personal abyss

No way should you just accept what is happening

Keep on treading water and keep looking for the shore.  You’ve got this!