VSSPoems, Week 3

September 21st

Everything decays

Rots away

To become #ruins

 

Glorified

As it dies

Living relics

 

Attractions

For the masses

Til its gone

 

The tragedy

And mystery

Of life

 

 

September 23rd

Tears wash the soul

Nourish the heart

Cleanse the dark

Like the #rain

We danced in

As children

Carefree

And naive

Life’s burdens

Yet on our shoulders

 

September 24th

I wish to #stitch

a stunning mask

to confound

and astonish

 

I wish to #stitch

a matching cloak

to keep secrets

and mystify

 

I wish to #stitch

a wonderful lie

to become my life

and satisfy

 

September 25th

Darkness was always there

Filling the air

in thick, rolling clouds.

The thunder was loud

after the flashes of lightning.

You would have thought it blinding

except it was familiar

even the shivers

it sent down your spine.

It was divine.

It was #Castlevania.

 

September 26th

My #luggage seems light

Laughable

I hide it away

Screaming internally

Can’t let them see

I’m vulnerable

Struggling

Gasping

Fighting my demons

 

What else is there to do?

My burdens are mine

Guilt is there

If I share

And so I lock them up

And battle myself.

 

September 27th

The waters still

Shimmer and shine

Beneath pale moon light

Her face is reflected

Ivory skin

Speckled by sunlight

Green eyes blossom

Like new buds

On a growing tree

Nature’s #mirror Is friendlier

Than a stranger’s gaze

She welcomes the image

Strong and powerful

BraveWrite, Week 2

It’s Hump Day, people! The best and worst day of a work week.

I have felt entirely sapped of my energy and I am hoping I can turn it around today. Fingers crossed! I don’t need to sleep in and waste the day away doing nothing which is what yesterday taught me.

My mom came over and helped sand, clean, and put the first coat of Tremclad on our awful metal railings. They look better already after that. However, being productive didn’t quite get me out of this weird mood slump I’ve been in so here’s hoping today’s the day.

Anyways, I hope you are on your way to a wonderful weekend and may my BraveWrites help you out!

 

September 12th

She stared out the car window and watched the rain streak down it. Her mother talked at her, but she didn’t hear the words. Only emptiness.

But she was #encouraged by their want to help and surprised when they confessed their own visits to a psychiatrist. Maybe there was hope.

 

September 13th

She watches as her mother takes another drag. The cigarette’s blue-tinged smoke shimmers in the light and dissipates.

A silent, slow threat.

And she sheds another tear. Greying skin, ragged coughs, the crimson drops that spell the end. She waits for #cancer to claim her mom.

 

September 14th

Video game consoles litter the house, attached to various TVs. She turns on the xbox 360 and plays Assassin’s Creed. Her character scales rough pick, runs across clay tile, and lives.

She envies his freedom though she is the #gamer.

 

September 15th

Her brother pushed her under the water as part of the game. His hand was like steel on her head and she fought to surface. To suck in oxygen once more.

Panic had set in as time slowed. When he finally released her, she was ravenous for air.

Her #umbrage was now rage.

 

September 16th

The #vibration of the nail file on her toes unnerved her and served as a reminder. She was unwelcome here.

She was no pretty girl who wore make-up, fake nails, or got her hail done. She was a tomboy whose hands were filthy and rough.

But she stayed in the salon.

 

September 17th

She stood with her friends and their boyfriends in line, waiting to have her prom ticket checked. It was clutched in a white-knuckled fist as her anxiety took over. Her companions laughed and gasped as they entered the hall.

She suffocated internally on the #pizzazz.

 

September 18th

Her #alacrity had nothing to do with a fear of failure. It had everything to do with her need to prove them wrong. She was tired of the comparisons that ground her spirit into dust. She was tired of fearing whispers and taunting looks. She’d stand strong.

Very Short Stories, Week 22

Good Monday morning! Or at least, I hope it will turn into one if it hasn’t yet.

My dreams were sweet and intoxicating, and kept me in bed longer than I’d like. But here I am with my very short stories.

Here you go!

 

September 10th

The tree lay on its side, but relatively intact. Winds from last night’s storm #uprooted its proud base, leaving it exposed to the elements. She wandered over to it in sun’s brilliant rays and mourned its fate to shrivel and decay.

But the tree didn’t give up.

 

September 11th

#Smoke tumbles off the burning logs, crawling slowly towards the heavens. The fire’s scent hangs in the air and spreads its warmth and fond memories. Leaves rustle underfoot and form a carpet on soon to sleep grass. The taste of Autumn is in the air, beckoning.

 

September 12th

Rain gathered behind the dam’s walls. Its angered waters licked and spilled over its confinement, taunting those in its way. Shouts were scarcely heard over the storm, ordering evacuation.

The police rushed to remove those in the city below, to beat the #floodwaters.

 

September 13th

The teachers blamed the #lunar eclipse but the students only wanted freedom. From rules and regulations. From homework and grades. From the rigors suffocating creativity. They longed to spread their wings and read from forbidden works.

Really, they wanted stimulation.

 

September 14th

I remember doing #somersaults on the ground. The grass wet or dry, but soft against my clumsiness. I remember it turned into flips in the air that ended badly, too. I remember the child in me who made the attempt despite the outcome.

Where did she go?

 

September 15th

His eyes were #amber and sweet like honey. They raked over her naked body, sending shivers across her skin. Tension rose between them in the still silence. The pure sexual energy demanded release.

If she were a lock, his kiss was the key to unleash both their passion.

 

September 16th

Her fingers fluttered like hummingbirds across the keys of the piano. It was the only thing betraying her #euphoric mood. With eyes shut and lips a thin line, no one thought she was anything but serious. The notes that rose and fell were uplifting, demanding. Like her.

Fire’s Vengeance

Gas covered the wood
Its smell filthy in the air
And yet it welcomed Fire.
Strike a match, sulfur’s touch,
Floated through the sky.
 
Flames grew, running
Through predetermined paths
Climbing the wooden trellis
Amidst the clematis screams.
 
Its violent touch
Melted all in its path.
Plastic
Metal
And
Memories.
 
Burned away the evil
Hidden in this
Trinket filled home.
 
Smoke blocked windows
Yet the sights were clearer.
 
Fire clambered up the stairs
Followed the smell of alcohol
Like
a
Bloodhound.
 
The drunken shouts
Were masculine
As his victims urged Fire on
Imagining its red tongue
Licking his ankles,
Shredding his face.
 
Suffocating on emptiness
The man met his demise.
House turned to coal with him.
 
Fire’s Embers waited for the words
Before departing.
 
“Good Job.”