I've written on apricotpie for five and a half years, and never once have I gone a month without posting. In fact, I don't recall ever cutting it this close. There are six hours left in the last day of the month and the only thing I have to show you is an essay about how I don't have anything to show you.
Sometimes I worry about my future as a writer.

I had the first two lines of this written somewhere randomly, so I decided to something with it! I would love your thoughts. This is my first poem that doesn't rhyme.

Nightmare

Slipping, Falling
Plunging into ink

Darkness, Coldness
Smother and freeze

Dancing, Prancing
Images appear

Mocking, Cackling
Unsettlingly near

Grasping, Clinging
Hoping for dawn

Losing, Crying
Trying to hide

Brightening, Lightening
Gasping for Breath

Morning, Daytime
Dreamland survived

the same place, a different scene
the same place, a different me
an older me

the same trees, a little taller
the same trees, different leaves
a newborn green

the same stones, a little smoother
the same stones, different tones
worn down, turned over

the same sky, different clouds
the same sky, different sounds
chase the pictures out

the same sun, the same shadows
the same shadows, different patterns
woven on the gravel

the same grass, the same color