Thread: This isn't a prompt, it's a poem I wrote. Sorry bout that. Enjoy, anyway.

It's like everything is falling apart. It's like tumbling into icy waters and being certain you'll drown. It's like a giant hand is squeezing your heart, squeezing so tightly that it stops beating but you're still alive, still there somehow, watching from the sidelines. It's like you're forever cold, frozen inside – your ribcage is actually just a huge slab of ice enclosing your heart. It's like nothing in the world will console you, unless the person you miss suddenly decides to come back, and that's never going to happen. It's like you're running so fast that your hair flies out behind you and your cheeks turn red from the cold but it doesn't matter, if you can escape this fate that binds you, you'll be free. It won't matter how cold it is, because at least you'll be there. It's like walking straight into the flames and feeling yourself burn, but when you look down nothing has happened – there are no flames. No fire. Nothing out of the ordinary. It's worse, because no-one understands. Not even when you explain it word for word, they just don't get it. It's like being left behind when everyone around you has already moved on. It's waving goodbye to a fading figure and then finding out that they were never even there. It's like dying over and over again until you can't take it anymore, and then the death is real, and you're gone. But the pain is still there, they're still gone, the person that you miss so badly. It's like there's a gaping hole in your chest that nothing but that person can fill back up again. It's like knowing you'll be scarred for life and nothing is worse than that feeling, that loss, that sorrow, that is building up inside. It's like the world is going to end, but instead it keeps on revolving, but you're lost in the atmosphere, you're floating around in semi-consciousness and nothing can bring you back to the present, because you're forever living in the past. At least they'll be there in the past. They are alive only in your memories because aside from that they've deserted you and they'll never be back, not for anything. It's like all the stress in the universe has caught up with you, and no matter how far or how fast you run, nothing can stop it from catching up with you, grabbing your shoulder, and shaking you hard. It's like being on a roundabout that won't stop spinning – pretty soon you'll fall off and injure yourself, but you don't know exactly when, it's too difficult to anticipate. It's like all the sad songs rolled into one lethal melody. It's agony, only worse.
Because you're gone. Forever. And nothing, not even these words, can bring you back.

I wish you could be here.

Granted, I don't know much about poetry but I don't think this is it. I've moved it to Fiction for the time being, Jessica. If you would like, I can change the title to whatever you choose. Should I be wrong and it is poetry, I'll happily move it back.

Welcome.

It is poetry, it just doesn't rhyme. Just because it doesn't have lines and stuff doesn't change that, it's just abstract.