Posted in Word Prompt

Soaked To The Bone (Repost)

Repost from Sept 2017 (closer to a year ago than I thought!)

For the word of the day challenge yesterday, cacophony

It starts with a low buzzing
A light humming,
Echoing, bouncing, off the bricked walls of my mind.
Quickly it grows, a wildfire
Clanging and banging along the barred windows of my soul.
It can not be freed.
It will not be unleashed.
But the steady clash grows, a cacophonous symphony of chainsaws
Hacking away at the binding to the cement of my heart.
Reaching a crescendo,
There’s only one way to stop it now.
Ripping away at the flesh that holds us,
Stabbing forth the hearts that blind us,
The deeds are done, the buzz has gone,
Soaked to the bone,
In the blood of a crescendo.

Posted in Word Prompt

Good For Nothing

This is a piece of Sia’s story (who I just realized isn’t actually named in this snippet, she’s the narrator) who we first met in The Last Twinkies … I’m working on making her story into something longer and this is another piece of it featuring today’s prompt (this is still the rough draft so it’s still rough).

“Nooooooo!” A shrill alien like noise surrounds us followed by the sound a tree must make when it falls in a forest. 

Suddenly my hands are free. I’m no longer shoved against the tree but resting there in tears. Kate appears beside me, a branch half as big as her hoisted above her head. 

“You. Good. For. Nothing. Piece. Of. Shit.” Each word accented by a thud as she brings the branch crashing into John’s limp body. “I. Fucking. Hate. You.” 

Smash. Thud. Squash.

Blood splatters onto her tan skin and blue top. It spurts onto my jeans and shirt. The warmth sprinkles onto my cheeks as she continues her tantrum with each smashing of John’s certainly decimated body.

I’m frozen against the tree again, this time by my own fear. Kate’s eyes are black with rage. To where she’s gone I don’t know but I’m not sure she recognizes the world around her. 

Tantrum

Posted in Word Prompt

Bucket

I’ve got a bucket full of memories.
I spill from my deepest estuaries.
Like blood from fresh cuts,
Across the beds of my fingers,
Driving down to my thighs
Where the rivers run deeper
And the water bleeds darker.
My bucket fills with hazy days,
Dark specters and figures
Blending with the nightly shadows,
Caressing the darkest pieces
Just beyond the noise.
You bring me silence.
You bring me quiet.
You build dams to my scars;
Stopping the flow to my bucket of hell.
I’ve never found one like you before,
A soul that beats so close to mine.
Your blood flows darker,
Deeper,
Divine,
Through this bucket of mine.
You touch the chaos,
No fear etched across your face.
You try to take it all away,
Try to steal my bucket of time.

Posted in Word Prompt

Lilies on the Floor

I can’t stop quaking
My hands are shaking.
There’s glass everywhere,
Blood on the floor,
Smeared over the door.
Oh god,
What have we done here?
Lilies on the floor.
Purple and blue,
Like the bruises
Left on you,
And I’m ripping
Bone from tendon.
Tell them I’m sending
All of us on a one way
Track, no returning.
Because I can’t stop quaking.
My hands are shaking.
There’s flesh and bone everywhere.

Posted in Word Prompt

Sweet Nectar

WordPress Daily Prompt – Bliss

“Fruity aromas, subtle peach …” she inhaled deeply, “Perfection.” She swirled the red blend in the glass letting it stain the sides in dusky waterfalls of pure bliss.

As she sipped the red nectar and surveyed the chalet it was hard not to be taken by the view. “The Swiss Alps doctor, very impressive.” From the balcony the full scope of the mountain range was breathtaking. Stoic forests climbed towards the clouds before dissipating into glistening peaks. She leaned against the railing letting her breath escape in white puffs over the landscape.

Her attention was drawn back to the doctor, leaned back in his chair with his mouth slightly agape, staring blankly at the ceiling. A slow trickle of blood trailed from the corner of his mouth.

She studied his limp body with muted interest over the rim of her glass. Despite the sweet aromas there was a slightly tangy aftertaste, it sent a shiver of delight through her.

“1967 was a good year indeed.” She let her fingers slide through his slightly greying locks one last time. “It was a lovely evening with you and, dare I say, an even better night.” She drained the last of the thick honey from her glass. “Let me get this for you. What kind of date would I be to leave you in such a disheveled state?”

She leaned close to the doctor’s smooth skin. He still smelled of musky aftershave and  twilight passions. The small trickle of blood smelled just as divine as the sweet nectar of her glass. “I suppose it would.” She whispered gently before letting her tongue indulge in one final taste of the man.

“I must bid you adieu now, can’t be caught with the sun coming up you know.” Her whisper was barely a breath on the mans ear then she was gone.


As always please go check out what’s new at The Perfectly Imperfect Bunch

Posted in Word Prompt

It’s Only April

WordPress Daily Prompt – Cloaked

The darkness cloaks some bullshit.

Mari stared at the paper.

The darkness cloaks some bullshit. There’s some fucking noise outside, a siren. It’s all bullshit.

She pressed her temples. She really didn’t want to fail this student but he had turned in papers like this all year. This was shaping up to be the most ridiculous one yet.

The darkness cloaks some bullshit. There’s some fucking noise outside, a siren. It’s all bullshit. The jackass took off through the back door about an hour ago. It took the god damn cops an hour to get here.

“Jesus, I’m going to need some wine.” Mari had sat this particular student down just a week ago and explained that he really needed to knock it out of the park on this paper. They made a deal that if he could make an A she would pass him in the class. He knew the material and Mari knew he could pass if made the effort but the effort seemed to be completely lost on him.

The darkness cloaks some bullshit. There’s some fucking noise outside, a siren. It’s all bullshit. The jackass took off through the back door about an hour ago. It took the god damn cops an hour to get here.  I’m trying to tell them to turn off the god damn siren. Little bro is in the back sleeping. Somehow I’m threatening and now I’m face down in the mud with some fat white fuck breathing down my neck about Miranda rights. 

Mari poured two glasses worth of a red blend into her glass. “Ok, let’s power through. This is the last one.”

The darkness cloaks some bullshit. There’s some fucking noise outside, a siren. It’s all bullshit. The jackass took off through the back door about an hour ago. It took the god damn cops an hour to get here.  I’m trying to tell them to turn off the god damn siren. Little bro is in the back sleeping. Somehow I’m threatening and now I’m face down in the mud with some fat white fuck breathing down my neck about Miranda rights. I’m trying to tell them it wasn’t me. Now little bro is awake and his footsteps are covered in fucking blood. Wanna see cops get real? Show them a four year old with bloody fucking footsteps. I tell them the jackass took off and who knows where he got to since it took them a god damn hour to get here. Little bro is crying in the backseat but they won’t let me sit with him because they want my alibi. Fuck them, I work two jobs and they can call my bosses to verify. Fat fucks. Little bro keeps asking why and you know what? I don’t fucking know. But I graduate this spring and I’m already eighteen. Thank fucking god, or whatever, mom had a will that named me legal guardian. Just give me an A Ms. Vargas. It’s been a long fucking year and it’s only April. 


Don’t forget to head over to our collaboration blog, The Perfectly Imperfect Bunch! We have beautiful poetry and wonderful insights to writing it this week