Posted in Word Prompt

Threads of Gold

I want to lie between the lines.
To feel the words moving and sinking,
Gnashing and gnawing at the chains binding them so.
I want to sink into the crevices between the melodies,
The breaths between the chords.
To feel the rhythms beating and crashing,
Tearing and thrashing at the ropes holding them down.
I would inhale every heartbroken word.
Let it sink into my skin,
A permanent tattoo of something
Too strong to break yet too fragile to hold.
Something nurtured in the dark
Until it becomes too bold.
Let the waves crash over me,
Stripping my spirit clean.
Sew my pieces with your song,
Delicate threads of gold.


The Perfectly Imperfect Bunch

Posted in Word Prompt

What Secrets This Lake Keeps

What secrets this lake keeps
When the dark nights rain
And it’s just humid enough
For the lake to stain
With the ghost of clouds
That couldn’t quite take flight.
There’s a story here
Only unfolding in those nights.
Billy lives in that mansion across the way.
Him, his mistress and a perfect family.
He shines the spotlight over the lake
When the fogs settle in thick.
Billy claims it’s for the speedsters,
Whipping in and out,
Keeps them quick.
But I know the truth,
Of Billy and the lake
And the girl he vowed to take
As his first, his wife.
His heart and soul she was.
Until one day sweet Billy found her
Facedown in the red mud;
Gunshot wounds
To the back and head.
The gun was his
And sweet Billy was no saint.
Scared, he hid
Her body at the bottom of the lake.
Now he shines his spotlight,
When the fogs coat the waters thick
To keep the specter of his love
From spilling his secrets like oil slicks.


Go see what’s new at The Perfectly Imperfect Bunch

Posted in Word Prompt

When We Drown

The view under the waves is distorted, bending the world as we know it. It crashes, murky greens into peaceful blues with an explosion muted by the space between the Sun and me. I strain to reach, my fingers grasping for the last wispy rays of a rope I could never hope to hold. Perhaps if I try to hold them tight enough, clutched in my palm until nails bite skin, the Sun will pull me above the wake as it journeys from one horizon to another. I hold my breath but the water holds me like a lover, tight without remorse. It sighs and heaves, weaving tapestries of mystery before my eyes, tempting my lips to part as it tickles my skin.

“Drink.” It sings. “Breathe.” The siren song every fiber of my being aches to succumb to floods my ears. Water tousles my hair, roughly catching it in the fine stems of seaweed beds for two. It strokes my cheeks and surrounds every part of me with suffocating romantic intents. “Let go.” It whispers.

I cling to the Sun with weakening resolve. My hands, stained with the blood of a thousand moments, are slipping down the silken rays as the water takes me into its arms. “Just breathe.” A siren song echo in my mind. The seaweed bed pricks my skin, weaving tight through my hair, restraining my arms, pulling my legs. I have no choice, the last rays of rescue slide right through my fingers as the water pushes me violently down.

“Breathe.” It sings in a voice undeniably angelic while I watch the view under the waves, distorting the world as we know it. I have found the water is a demanding lover, a suffocating romantic with murderous intent. The seaweed grips my waist, holding me steady, while I breathe.

Posted in Word Prompt

Monster

A couple of days ago I came across this challenge – here – on the obsessive writer and I thought, “well that’s cool, I’ll give it a go.”

The theme is Sin. Here’s my entry.

Monster

Thomas stared into the mirror for several long moments. His bloodshot eyes darted around his darkening reflection as the voices echoed through his head.

“It was him!”

“The fucker in the Godly robes!”

“The Father almighty!”

Beads of sweat carved stark paths through the splattered blood on his cheeks.

“They have sinned!” The voices cried, “They both must pay!”

“Yes.” Thomas nodded to his reflection. “Both of them have to pay.”

He clutched the hunting knife to his side as he staggered through the marbled hallways towards the back of the church.

“Father!” Thomas cried as he approached the confessional.

The older man with glasses perched on the edge of his nose swung back the curtain and hurried forward before realizing it was Thomas slowly approaching him.

“Thomas?! What’s going on?” The older man’s eyes landed on the thick red specks already resting on Thomas’s youthful cheeks and the hunting knife caked with a thin layer of drying blood. “What have you done?” The older man whispered.

“Forgive me Father, for I have sinned …” The older man backed towards the confessional slowly while raising a hand towards the advancing young man.

“Thomas, I don’t know what’s going on but it doesn’t have to be like this. Just stop, we can talk.  I’m sorry for whatever has happened but this isn’t necessary.”

For a moment, Thomas seemed to falter but as the older man fumbled beneath his robes for his cell phone Thomas moved forward with renewed purpose.

“You’re not sorry. They all say you aren’t. They all know, we all know.” The Father’s heels rammed into the step of the confessional but before he could fall Thomas grabbed his collar. “We all know.” He hissed.

Thomas plunged the knife into the man’s stomach, cutting him from his gut to his bowels.

“And now they’ll all know too.” He let the Father fall into a crumpled shell of a man.

The pool of sticky red blood oozed slowly under the confessional curtain around the Father’s feet, accented by the praying nuns who now approached down the hallway and the slow calm breathing of Thomas as he took his seat in the booth.

“Forgive me Father, for I have sinned.”

Through the small opening Thomas could hear the Father’s labored breathing.

“M … Mon … Monster.” The choked voiced replied.

Thomas smirked into the dimly lit booth, the old man had guts.

“Aren’t we all Father? Aren’t we all?”