Posted in flash fiction

Repeat

Life can twist our minds and rip dreams away
But in some moments we find
The greatest gift is perhaps not physical
But a moment in time
When we no longer have to be held to the reality of who others believe we are.
That moment wrapped in a lovers arms, the true idea of home dancing through every sensation.
Or a moment alone with nothing more than a breath and a soft whisper for patience.
Libations given in sacrifice of every moment thereafter.
When we come under fire we close our eyes willing ourselves to aim higher.
Repeat.

For the flash fiction challenge at Carrot Ranch
Word Count: 99
Theme: The greatest gift

Posted in stream of consciousness, Word Prompt

Is It You After All?

Memories are fickle little things
I watch your gait as you move through a crowd
Is it you after all?
Your laugh and your gaze
Ignite flames but the lighter clicks
And never catches hold
Of my stray dreams and gut feelings
Whenever I smell sweet smoke
Or the slightest whiff of your voice in monotone over my stereo.
Perhaps we need it this way
Perhaps time has bound our brains.

Ragtag Daily Prompt: Strain

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Posted in Word Prompt

Capsizing Breath (Repost)

Your absence sucks the warmth from these sheets,

Curling between my thigh’s, roping around my fingers

Still trembling and gasping

From gentle tugs and rasping bites

Along edges of bone and light

I am frozen on capsizing breath

Of the last words we said

While these sheets of your sighs,

Of our eyes

Forever taking one another in,

Hold me hostage, wrapping around my legs, binding my wrists,

Against the warmth you float away with.

The word of the day when I posted originally was vague.

Posted in stream of consciousness

iPhone Prefers Ducks

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.