Posted in stream of consciousness

Sometimes He’s a Man

There’s a wolf in my closet.

Sometimes he’s a man.

He watches me through a crack in the door.

I can feel his eyes

Surveying my naked body.

He licks his lips,

Waits for me to leave,

Then he slips out,

Crouched low like hanging smoke

And molests my things.

I hear crashes in the bathroom

And run to find the culprit

But he sinks back into the shadows

And watches me.

I catch him out of the corner of my eye

Shifting in shards of light.

Sometimes he hides beneath my bed

And waits till I’m asleep. 

Then he slides his fingers,

Light as a breeze,

Along my spine.

I worry one day he’ll rip it out.

If I haven’t been quiet enough.

My friends think I’m crazy,

But they won’t spend the night.

This is part 1 which has morphed into part 2 (more flash fiction, less poem). Photo is from the WordPress library.

Posted in Word Prompt

Marionettes

It’s as if my entire life has been an experiment, a study in indiscriminate chaos theory; Russian roulette served up with a rusty knife. It seemed the world shook out of tune. Or maybe it was me. It was just a matter of time. It’s a scientific fact that great amounts of pressure will make things crack. Some of us can taste the air and others only hear static when we speak. It’s simply theory that we’re connected like marionettes on string.

Where you pull, my heart jerks; subtle palpitations against the grain. I gathered the words to tell you but you scooped them from my tongue. I dangle above our cardboard stage.

RDP Prompt Reflection

Posted in stream of consciousness

The Truth Have I Murdered

Music: All Them Witches – Dying Surfer Meets His Maker
Taken loosely from the idea of a lyrical essay

The boy doesn’t love you.

And why should he?

Don’t “please mister” me …

You’re the culprit here. Look at those hands, doused in red.

Disgust! That’s what I feel when I look at you.

The truth deserved better.

Better than being dragged by your breathless frame,

Heaving from the act,

Down the drain.

Witless.

I’ll ask you again.

When no was the answer …

Why didn’t you just give in?

Posted in stream of consciousness, Word Prompt

In The Garden

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.