Prompt #3: The Vessel: Write about a ship or other vehicle that can take you somewhere different from where you are now.

     There is a freedom in the wind, there is life in the waves. I close my eyes and let the sea take control of the ship momentarily. My worries seem to fade away. Her name seems to fade away. Her face, her voice, her scent, that only moments ago still lingered in the stitches of my favorite sweater, all seem to fade away. All I can see and hear and breath is the ocean breeze. 
      My heart, for the first time in weeks, beats with no intention other than its original design. There weren't any long pauses in between beats, the beats weren't anxious in any way, they were just... natural, in a way that has become so terribly foreign to me. 
      I look out yonder, into the blackness of the sea and the glittering of the night sky, and wonder why I ever decided to live anywhere other than here. I have all that I truly need. Food swims so innocently a few inches below the ship's hull. I have a stove on board that could clean out the water to a drinkable state. What more do I need? All that I cared about back on land left me with just a short of letter of justification. This ocean is all I need now. Maybe these are drunken thoughts, but my soul has never been more sober than in this moment. The sea is where I belong.

Prompt #2: The Unrequited love poem: How do you feel when you love someone who does not love you back? ​ http://thinkwritten.com/365-creative-writing-prompts/

​     "No."
     No matter how much I drink or sleep or attempt to bleed away the misery, I cannot get that horrendous word of my head... "No." I just cannot believe somebody so angelic could cut so deeply into my soul and rip my heart to shreds-- but she has. 
    I understand that I cannot make somebody love me, I know that and have accepted that, but no level of acceptance or understanding can stop my heart from bleeding and my soul from crying out. I have love letters and sappy poems filling up every trash bin in the house and all over the street... I try to write about anything other than her, but I cannot even get my mind to think of anything that isn't her... My heart beats the syllables of her name. She is the main character of my dreams-- though not even in my dreams does she answer "yes" to that doomed question. 
      Maybe I misread the signs, or maybe the signs were only a manifestation of my own foolish mind... thinking it can create something that simply does not exist.... Oh, how I wish your love for me did exist, but it doesn't. I tell my friends that I'm fine, but that isn't the first time that I have lied. I tell them that I haven't thought of you in weeks; oh, how I wish that were true. My mind hasn't thought of anything besides you since... I cannot even remember a time... Ever since you entered my life, all of those years ago, my mind has been filled with thoughts of you and my heart has been filled with love for you and my future has been filled with me and you... but now I must change my future plans... Oh, how I wish your love for me did exist.
​     

Your green eyes were my Northern Star,
But, with you leaving my side, that guide has faded away--
And now I wonder if I will ever again find my way home.
Maybe you and I will be together someday...
But even my convoluted mind can't seem to find a way
That you and I become intertwined in the end.
I guess this is our tragic end--
"Do you love me?"
"No."

    The sun shines sparingly through the curtains and onto my bed. I close my eyes tightly in hopes of slipping back to sleep and into another dream, as those are the only times you and I seem to meet-- but sleep has once more evaded me. I hear the birds chirping and singing along to some happy tune that seems so foreign to me nowadays. I sit in the darkness for possibly a moment too long, though even with the open curtains and the sun taking over my bedroom the darkness is nearly impossible to avoid as it has so long ago occupied my entire mind.
     I sit at my bedside and watch the cars drive by below. I see couples walking around, hand-in-hand, on their way to coffee or breakfast or wherever it is that couples go, I no longer would know. The news plays softly in the background, the weatherman says tonight should be another cold one, he suggests snuggling up with a loved one over a cup of hot chocolate-- I mute his voice. 
      The wind softly picks up trash from the gutter and floats it into the air, it dances around-- showing that even garbage is able to find joy in this gruesome world. I see that most of the pedestrians are covered up with light sweaters and shielded with sunglasses of some sort. I walk into my closest and peek around for a sweater that doesn't remind me of you or isn't covered in your scent, the mission is nearly impossible, but eventually I find one hidden in the back. I grab it, wipe off the years of dust, and try to cover up my disgust for its hideous orange shading and throw it on over a dirty shirt. My only pair of glasses were purchased by you, so I decide that I would rather the sun attempt to penetrate my vision, than have a reminder of you so close.
       With no plans for the day, I walk aimlessly through the streets. I feel the breeze softly against my cheeks; the sun's rays, appearing through building gaps and alleyways, warm me up as the wind attempts to cool me down. It is a beautiful day, even I can admit that. The birds seem to fly only above my head as they continue to sing joyfully; the trash dances around by my side and for a moment... everything seems okay.