Dark eyes flash danger
stillness stares like a sharp blade
severing silence
she stands and she speaks
adressing crowds that assume
that some are too weak
That skin is too soft.
“Skin is truly strong
held next to a blade: dull, sharp
fierce, full of fear-yet-
there is no anger
quite like this,” She says, “I know
blood isn’t enough.”
G is for Grief
S T R A N G E R prompt 18
The stranger she loves
the more frightening the eyes
her skin speaks the truth
He leaned back to her;
said “It’s time for an affair”
She sees bleeding eyes
Now she feels what’s there
a hand that keeps holding hands
a wound that can kill
Watch her watching them
she sees her conspiracy
of fate breathe in.
One Shot Week 21
Inspired to share some of my own story by Pete Marshall and Sheila Moore
I offer two pieces and ask for one shot
Untitled
I
Hope to
Find
A way
To forgive
Myself
The
Sharp blades
Bitter words
I used to harm
My soul and
Body.
Such
Hatred
Scars.
WALTZ WAVE: This form, named for Leo Waltz, the Web Manager of Sol Magazine, asks for a one-stanza titled poem, with nineteen lines; each line has a set number of syllables.
Pattern: 1, 2, 1, 2, 3, 2, 1, 2, 3, 4, 3, 2, 1, 2, 3, 2, 1, 2, 1
Untitled (song)
This little girl lives on the inside
She don’t wanna feel this way
Just wants to smile to know what it feels like
Secret dancer in a mirrored box
Dancing around her shattered heart
I see myself and all I have to hide
…and she says
(BRIDGE)
Found a little sanity on the inside
The cold, hard blade moves across the outside
Found a little bit of blood mixes well with wine
…and she says
(CHORUS)
Hold me softly
Someone please hold me while I sway
Hold me softly
She don’t care, what it feels like
It’s not her story, anymore
She turns her back against angry tears
Scratching down her face
She don’t wanna feel this way
Pretending to be stone she dosen’t feel so small
…as she turns to walk away
(BRIDGE X 1)
(CHORUS X 1)
Choking on your kiss
I draw blood
and lay back.
Liquid loosens lips
bleeding the body
rushing my nipples
and staining my hips
Why are you running away?
One Shot Week 20
In my sacred heart
rubys form within flesh where
the blood rolls like tears.
She walks the long walk
down the beach
where pale sand turns
to burnt red volcanic rocks.
Her bare feet aching
as the soft shore steps away
with her sandy footsteps
She walks farther this morning
and stops in the face of two choices:
To keep walking or to turn back.
Turning home she thinks
“Now I know this threshold is here.”
as the rocks begin to bleed.
She walked that long walk again.
Her footsteps did not falter
as her bare feet began to bleed.
She crossed a threshold
slick with shining sea quills
beyond the paling perfection
of the shores before.
She crossed above, deep
and under a threshold beyond.
Choice came this morning
and choice is never alone.
This was written for One Single Impression
http://onesingleimpression.blogspot.com/
