To let your vitriol
Contaminate my IV of life
Where were you
When I couldn’t stand
With your impetuous knocking
On the windows of my mind
In the shadows
It was an impetuous knock on the old wooden door.
It was Margot’s corked shoes tapping.
Tap. Tap. Tap-tap-tap.
It was the shrill cries of children that weren’t mine.
It was the old tile with its yellow triangles inside blue circles
And the slow boiling blood stripping it clean.
Two quick stream of consciousness type things for the RDP prompt of the day.
Also, check out Pint Sized Lit
We all want somebody to save.
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
The most interesting thing
About this tale,
Other than every breath
Passed from your lips to mine,
Remains the fading away.
That’s really only the beginning.
RDP Prompt: Homecoming
I write my replies
Preemptive social suicide
Before I speak
My mind wanders
There must be a million
Rolled onto that wall
If I could
Disperse into them all