solitary

 

I‘ve worn my heart to tatters,

ribbons of bloody gore,

until I‘ve nothing left to beat,

no armor to be worn.

 

silence feels like heaven,

a bareness of my soul,

like a wiped clean slate,

free of a former role.

 

lonely, lonely, says my mind.

slowly it repeats.

lonely, lonely, echoes the stone,

solitary at my feet

 

a toothy ache blunts the lips

that once could wear a smile.



Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Stuck

The beginning of a guy... an assignment...  Warning, Martin cusses a bit. He was stuck in the mud.      “Damn it,” he said. Stupid.      He tried to pull his leg from the muck, but could not overcome the suction and felt the mud’s chill reach over his knee. Shit.      “Willem!”      He tried to crane his head to see where his teen was, but the reeds were tall, blocking his view.      Overhead, the sky was deepening to an unholy gray. Thunder rumbled across the horizon.       Shit.      The day had not been a total loss, unlike his boot, but it was quickly turning to crap now.     Willem met him at the gate of the apartment complex, so he had not had to deal with ex-wife Sharon.  Willem was even in a good mood, probably the first time since the boy had turn thirteen.  They had chatted about baseb...
Read more

Astoria Greengrass,

A ridiculously long fan fiction piece.  I wanted to examine redemption and grief, so I know that this is only a beginning, but it also isn't really mine to write, so it is just an exercise.      The green grass of the pitch was lush and cool beneath his fingertips.   Sitting quietly on the field, so long after he had left school, he tried to remember the wind rushing through his hair as he sped over the greenness.   It was difficult to remember the good things without a bitter tang overwhelming the sweetness. Though the sky was a bright and cloudless blue, somewhat rare here in the north, shadows seemed to be his constant companion, dogging his steps and forever at his heels. It was especially quiet this afternoon, the children tucked into their classrooms poring over their work and teachers pacing quietly up and down the aisles, checking answers and coaxing out stubborn bits of thought.      “May I sit?” The feminine voice be...
Read more