Wait, so who's judging this upcoming round? Do you have a prompt?

New prompt??

Cracking. Hmm.

Okay, here.

Stone Heart-

my heart is a little pebble, my mind a boulder, my feelings encased in frozen 

rock, and every time i cry it cracks- but my tired fingers will

smooth over the gap and seal the crack up, carefully, but there are so many little

cracks, and soon i will break. 

every emotion i feel is consumed by the blackness, and if i get angry the little

pebble just absorbs it until one day it all just breaks and

i scream, pearly tears salty like the waves that once made my heart invincible, or 

so i thought. 

and i know that one day my smooth stone heart with finally open up, ripping

apart, because your words are like little daggers, daggers that dig into my

heart, pushing and pulling and stabbing and breaking me into

tiny 

little

pieces

-

eh, this is okay. 

@dreamii, your poem is really good, but I think you read the theme wrong... :)

firecracker

i am like

this firecracker

burning dim then bright then

waiting to explode

the snap-crackle-pop

of energy bursting

volitile light.

just holding a blackened stick,

sometimes

i want to 

be burning with that light,

my energy

crackling, everyone would see

my light, dazzling

i'd never hold back

my flame would

smoke from pure emotion.

but for now i am just

an ember crackling. 

What's the judging date??

Hey y'all. 
The theme is 'crackling' but I will accept 'cracking' as well, because I don't want to make dreamii have to do another poem- 

The judging date is...*ponders*  Two weeks from now. March 13th. Fair? 

I bid you au revoir, 

NightSky, the Notorious Shipper and Majestic Insane One 

The crackling sound

of my voice

breaks the loud

silence. I wait

for the sound

of boots stepping

on the leaves

making them crackle.

Help! I want

to shout into

the empty space.

my mouth opens

but i cannot

make a sound.

And I realize

I will never

hear my own

crackling voice

again. 

*reads nightsky's comment*  

i need new glasses

oKaY enough of my rambling here's a bad poem

untitled-

all i have of you are these ancient pictures printed on monochrome cardstock with faded edges that crinkle when i touch them so i dont cause scared they'll fall into dust like my heart did when we got the call

if i could bring you back i would but it was so long ago so long that i forget the way you smiled even though i remember how your hair felt against my fingers ten years ago, and that was long enough for our pictures to fade

reality is harsh sometimes and every time it pushed us down you would get back up even though you knew you didnt have long while i curled into a ball on your bed and sobbed into your lap, and you never once teased me for crying like i did

that's why i loved you

but now all i have are these memories printed on crackling paper

and they will never be enough

~

and of course i wrote another love poem-

sorry for any spelling mistakes my spellcheck program isnt working atm 

and sorry that i sound so weird today i am literally dying

wHY diD i sTAy uP thAT lATe 

*falls over* 

ps. reading this over again i dont see how it fits the theme but oH wElL

Heh this only barely fits the theme.

Whatever. 

Woodsmoke twirling,

Dancing over my head.

Orange-blue-yellow flames

Crackling in front of me,

Spreading warmth through me

Like a hot drink.

Laughter around me--

I sit back and smile and

Wish this moment could last

Forever. 

But I know it can’t.

I have to leave the flames,

Go back to the cold

And the wind

And the dark

And the loneliness

That comes with nightfall

And return home, hoping

That this night will come again,

And that history does repeat itself,

And that those crackling flames

Will envelop me like

A blanket, welcoming

And warm and

loving.

The fire inside you crackles loudly

it's not giving up.

I know you think you wish you could

I do too,

sometimes,

but that fire is not going to 

ever

stop burning and there’s nothing you can do but 

riddle me this:

Do you really want it to? 

I know you're a little inclined to run away 

(after all, you are me and I am you)

but will you ever realize that if you spend your life running away

you'll eventually find you've run yourself all the way to the

thing you've been running away from

all along?

The fire inside you crackles loudly

and somehow

you're the only one who can't hear it.

The water won't burn you but

fire is less easily manipulated and

if you keep molding yourself to what everyone wants you to be

who are you at all?

The fire inside you is crackling loudly

perhaps you know it's there in the

very back of your mind.

When will you realize how strong you are?

When will you realize

the fire inside you is not

ever

going to stop burning?