And every day since I was born.
It’s a family curse I guess,
We’re even late to the end.
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
We’re connected by string, where hearts wander others bleed.
It’s your soul, inexplicably woven, interconnected, forever intersecting where we inevitably collide.
We crash and spin, debris scattering this lifespan.
Junkyard hearts rebuilt for our eventual mates, weighted with this tugging of our fates.
Feel free to ignore this, give a thumbs down, do whatever. I just wanted to get the jumbled mess out of my head and why not put it here.
Music – Yawning Man
I am more than you wanted me to be.
I count six
With pupils wide
They test the blinds
And crouch in fright.
I want you, I need you
I don’t know what more to say.
So I say nothing and hope
But the choice is always wrong
This is all wrong.
Will we ever be right?
The human memory is notoriously faulty.
Janine no longer remembered if she saw the light or if it was just the surgeons blinding head lamp as he crawled into her mother’s cavernous heart in attempt to save her.
Janine no longer remembered if she merely thought the words or if they actually slipped between her gritted teeth.
“Don’t bother, there’s nothing there to save.”
With all his gracious intent, the doctor took her hands.
“I did all I could but it just couldn’t be done.”
Janine couldn’t slam the gate fast enough, “You could’ve done less.”
No prompt to speak of.
Music: Moon Duo
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.
I’ll ask you again.
When no was the answer …
Why didn’t you just give in?
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,
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
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.
I signed up for more but it seems they lost the paperwork.
I can reason it away.
What’s life but missed words?
I’d cancel early but the fee is too high.
Sorry for my lack of anything lately. I’ve been busy, stressed … insanely tired, etc.
I have no rhyme or reason.