About a boyShining on wet leaves are equally wet cheeks. The edges are ripped, torn just like her hoarse voice, ragged nails and shredded hemline. Relentlessly she has been calling his name, her voice has been swallowed by the forest as has the sun by the murky river water.
Her hair clings to her face, sticky with sweat. It makes a dense veil, shielding her from what she knows she will see. While she runs desperately, she peels it away, nails scratching her face. The trees mock her, their crooked backs shaking with laughter; the swaying of their thick branches reminiscent of a death march, but her determination is louder. As long as her heart pounds in her temples and pulses in her hands, she will not relent.
Breathing hard, she looks upwards.
There, suspended ominously is the moon. She reminds herself that she is aware of what is happening, but her heart flutters like a bird against her ribcage. Despite holding her breath to remain strong, she shudders with rage. If only she were a bird to caree
NAPOWRIMO 14RawNAPOWRIMO 143 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
The bird cried every night for light to raise and warm a day
left frozen, cold, the dread crept in like smoke. Unknown to me
your feathers ruffled, specked in frost, your eyes they did campaign
a sadness of sapph're hue that so loudly cried "convene!"
Convene! But how are shadows stripped from souls when beauty such
as yours is from your raven hair, as if a starless night?
Will wild cries turn soundless as a dove's without a touch
of chaos strong in hands that plot upon my face your plight?
Deep thoughts are not my strength though even I can see this clear:
to prune your blackened grief is like a rose without its thorns
to chase away its predators so they might disappear
into a shade alike your own, though yours cannot be gone.
Unless a twin were formed to whisk away these guilty traits
to show your beaming, lovely smile. Or are these our own fates?
Vanishing ActPerhapsVanishing Act3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Faked his death.
Three Months and 25 Pounds AgoIt's hard.Three Months and 25 Pounds Ago3 years ago in Letters More Like This
Dear Frances in year 6Still no:boyfriendDear Frances in year 63 years ago in Scraps More Like This
Painted in pastelI glow a golden strength,Painted in pastel4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the darkness sprinting away
to stand at the fraying edges.
I glare at it menacingly,
daring it to attack.
A supernova blinds me,
sapping my strength.
You love the sight
of a defenceless warrior,
scared and confused,
crouching to the ground.
But I stand tall,
shattering your hold.
I shine brilliant blues,
swallowing your darkness
52 week challenge week 47Dear self,52 week challenge week 473 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
You'll turn out alright.
Springfield, MO1991Springfield, MO2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
In my father's house there are many rooms
(Only one gun cabinet)
A cross hung over my grandmother's
bedroom door for thirty two years
Her phone rang late on a Saturday night
She was the last person he called
The sun rose early the next morning
The cross was taken down
Week 38: 6-wrd story: Dial "A"After avenging Amy, Abigail ambled away.Week 38: 6-wrd story: Dial "A"3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
FatalityFinished; finally free.Fatality3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Father's funeral Friday.
Hell Hath no FuryBut I bought you a souvenir!Hell Hath no Fury3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Around the WorldEighty days might have been optimistic.Around the World3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
TransparentTransparentTransparent2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
hues fade from the eyes of humans, clear tinged reds and blues falling to the wayside
reminiscent of summer nights when the purple glow of a setting sun
washed over the viridian trees that dominated long, contemplative strolls;
ears awash with nature's rhythmschirping crickets a subtle cadence joining the whisper of
emerald leaves and sloth of crunching footsteps, the night's faithful song lost within the murmuring
voices of shared love and hammering yells of children at the crest of becoming teenagers, lost
within the delicious swirls of vanilla twilights and chocolate dreamssweet tastes of honey
and sugar lie on lips crusted with lust and love, tinges of mint hovering between air heated by
duo sets of breath and minds aching to cross that final tower of luscious strawberry sin;
laden by the earth's subtle texture graced by the gentle breeze of God's cool fingers lain, cradling
smooth bark of age-old trees and lapping waters of the cerulean
Around the World in 80 DaysWill cross the date line yesterday.Around the World in 80 Days3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
around the world in 80 days contestNecessary supplies:around the world in 80 days contest3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Silent LullabyDo not be afraidSilent Lullaby3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
of what lies
I love you
far too much
to leave you
I'll hold you
time and space
and all that's left
branded with flames
Love that stares
that crosses these
That is ours,
and to live
only in bliss,
the whole universe
to our will,
it keeps us.
We are safe
and we needn't fear.
You and I
will never be
we will be
Comatosethe clock rolls backwardsComatose2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
say hello to cold floors and breathing
ceilings and sleepless nights,
a snowflake city down in flames
and a humming monotony --
fingernails never dug deep enough.
you're stuck on words like I love him and
I miss him and this is it and I
love him I really really love- it's
better to have bled than ghosted
out into the
those are your thoughts suiciding themselves
under the smother of night, no
veneers can hide your
lines- time carved
you a new face and metered
asphyxiated and strung out by
your own needs, at least you had
to write it all off,
but not before you tore the wings off the
weak-willed sparrows and cried
bleached eyes and too much black
liner cover the fact you can't
anymore, you can't
the world and it shouldn't see you
you're sick of butterflies melting on your
fingertips and fairydust that's only of
dreams long dead, and
you nightmared these very days long ago- of
love as a hoax and siphoning smil
a letter to meLife can be unfair. Trick it!a letter to me3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
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A Firm Grasp He told me,A Firm Grasp4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Through words that hands
Had carved into monolithic stones and
A voice that could carry over mountains,
Though instead reverberated against
Hallow walls of being,
"The world will end
Neither with a bang,
The felling of trees and men
In the creation of eternal dusk,
Nor to the dissonant screams
The Sound of TypingHe was an artist, once.The Sound of Typing3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This