Verdant – RDP word of the day Music – Dirty Three – Self titled
Luscious. Fertile. Sasha’s garden was everything Mari could never inspire in her own. Her belly too, round with verdant life in a way Mari would never know.
Obsession. Jealousy. Rage in Mari’s veins blossomed as she feigned excitement for Sasha’s burgeoning life. Sasha’s roses brought home awards. Her daffodils sailed into a spotlight all their own. The baby kicked while she laughed on.
Inspired. Alone. Mari took to a rusted axe in order to get the job done.
I forgot to time myself but I intended to aim for 5 minutes to start. This probably took about that long.
She awoke one fine cupcake morning, Blue skies and nary a cloud in sight. Village windows remained shuttered, Terrific beasts tethered to the night. It was a fine day indeed. She had the invitations, Colloquial and drawn in invisible ink. Balloons of her favorite shades, Faded blues and washed out grays, Floated about the room; Specters all their own. Nine thirty and a quarter past second five. She clasped her hands, Breathing anticipation, When only a strangers shadow Fell upon the door. “Am I late?” An echo from empty marble halls. “I do love parties after all.” She tugged at cotton candy curls And a dress of a more bland sort. “Of course, of course. Just lay your grievances down here. After all, isn’t that what pity parties are for?”
Between how overwhelmed I’ve been pretty much all year at this point and a looming sense of becoming stuck in the status quo I’ve honestly felt like shit lately. I feel stuck, unimportant, unmotivated, uninspired and so very much like a total failure. I get to points where I wonder if every decision I’ve ever made has been the wrong one. Since I found myself having a pity party … Here we are
I don’t mean to say it so much But sometimes this world *d*ucking sucks. And when I’m frustrated I don’t really want my phone to trade my violent words For small feathery creatures, Perhaps in hopes it will quell raging digits. Somehow it works and I laugh at the absurdity Of our materialism And our in love yet in loathe relationships With AI and short fuses. Then I think of you And my words come to a jumbling, clotting stop Because I’ve long preferred making myself small In hopes that avoidance of everything big Will render me no more than the innocent bystander to a life I’ve never felt in control of. Maybe I’ve always believed I didn’t deserve the beauty you gave me. It doesn’t erase the emptiness, Or the memories of the last time I truly felt home etched in my soul. But I can’t type “fuck” because iPhone prefers ducks.
Water reminds me We’re not alone Landlocked and desperate For connection Somewhere beyond The curve of waves Rising to the sky I don’t know how To build a bridge I can only collect every grain of sand Until we can walk across the tide