broken

VSSPoem, Week 2

For the second week, here are my vsspoem prompts! I enjoyed some of them and was challenged by others. They always start off as short stories and then I remember they’re poems!

That silliness pretty much sums up my week. Got some stuff done around the house and off to get more done!

Hope you guys are all as productive as you want/need to be!

 

September 15th

The pen scrawled

Across the page

Black ink

Vibrant against

Stark white.

She smiled

As the words

Stumbled Into sentences

 

On the third page

She stopped

The smile now tears

Their spots marring

Her paragraphs

 

She signed in scribbles

And kissed the #letter

Goodbye

 

September 16th

The #Cry for Justice

is answered

with guns, knives,

all sorts of weapons.

 

And scarcely words.

 

The people take it

into their own

hands.

 

Because the scales

are

broken

and

untrusted.

 

How does this change?

 

When does this change?

 

 

September 17th

(Time zones sometimes screw with my ability to do prompts… Sorry!)

 

September 18th

My problems are #mountains

that stand tall

despite my

cries.

 

My worries are #mountains

fierce against wind

and rain

always.

 

My goals are #mountains

with no summit

to reach

soon.

 

My life is #mountainous

and they only seem larger

despite my steps towards the top.

 

September 19th

The grass was burdened with dew

Cool beneath her soft, bare feet

 

The sun had pulled back its blanket

Its rays of light there to meet

 

The world seemed to smile at her

Yet she crumbled with defeat

 

#Serenity was a thing of the past

It was never meant to last

 

September 20th

#Inertia does not rule my life.

I am constantly

knocked off course.

Change might be

my middle name.

No path to stick to

like some sort of glue.

Not me.

I’m bounced along

from spot to spot

Always thinking its right

But its not.

They tell me so.

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Very Short Stories, Week 19

It’s been a tough week and I still feel lost and unsure. I know I should push forward and fight to normalize my routine again but… The weight of Jasper’s death still clings to me and the silence is a knife straight through my heart.

I hope by trying to tap into other things for the prompts, I might banish this sadness that comes in waves. Hopefully, the ache will lessen with a bit more time and I’ll be able to carry on.

Anyways, the vssof this week still deal with Jasper, but I tried to write about other things, too. I hope you enjoy them.

 

August 20th

My #haven is my pets. The soft touch of their fur on my hands and their attentive, soul piercing gaze as they listen to every word. I lost a piece of my haven last night. His barks that woke me with his demands. His warmth as he snuggled close at night. Gone. But not forever.

 

August 21st

Staring at the x-rays of her dog, she was #blindsided by the news.

We usually see this with cancer, the vet explained.

The rest of his words were lost on her and tears fell like silent rain down her cheeks. Her husband’s hand was rough yet warm as it rubbed her shoulder.

 

August 22nd

The #wilds of the world shrink and shrivel in the grasp of greedy humans. Trees fall, uprooted and cut. Lakes dry under an unforgiving sun. Grassy meadows become concrete beaches. Our touch turns the world into a cold, unforgiving landscape. Nature’s tears and cries unheard.

 

August 23rd

#Bright lights twinkled like rare gems above them. A sky full of treasure they’d never see or know. The soft colours danced upon the packed dirt and they followed it forward, hands clasped in each others. The world was still and silent as they reached the clear waters.

 

August 24th

The silence is neverending. An unbreakable entity consuming any whisper of noise and leaving a desperate void in its wake. She cries but the sounds of her sobs dissipate into a vacant air. Sadness fills her gaze like waters in a still lake. The ripples #shatter silence.

 

August 25th

Even when the #skyline hid behind trees, her bare feet carried her onward. Just beyond the horizon, she repeated, dragging her tired soul despite its cries. In the daylight, the sun battered her skin through ripped fabric. Her raspy breaths echoed in her ears as she collapsed.

 

August 26th

I #confess

my heart is broken

my mind is unguided

my body is hollowed.

I confess

my path forward is gone

my dream is muddled

my goals lost to time

I confess

I don’t know what to do

Take time to heal

or push right through.

I confess

my only solace is sleep

and it calls again.

Heaven’s Time

Chest constricts

expands

ripping my broken

heart.

I can only imagine

your suffering.

Rushed breaths

fill the quiet.

Your body bounces

with the struggle.

Your ribs rise and fall

like a dying empire.

Your heart races

against a clock

wound against you.

Your brothers wait

for you in a pain free

Heaven

and I’ll see you there

in

time.

Dissolve

Wails rip my throat

raw with despair

My heart now shards

broken pieces

tearing

free in force

to make me feel

every

single

tear.

His cold body in my arms

It’s a reminder

of a bright light

snuffed out.

His flame flickers

weaker and weaker

gone like the wind

in an instance.

I long to hear his

heart beat like a drum

but its silence is a

deafening blow

and I dissolve into the pain

of his absence.

Very Short Stories, Week 17

This past week has been amazing! It started off on a rocky foot, but I’ve managed to take the punches and bounce back.

My book is being edited again. No more excuses. I’m making the time and it’s moving fairly quickly since I’m eager to see it completed!

From the looks of things, I will probably self-publish, but I need to do some further research on it. I’ve had amazing alpha/beta readers, and Grammarly has helped me fix any other mistakes left unnoticed. Once it’s done, I’ll probably get them to do another read and hope it’s as polished as my hands could make it!

The Very Short Stories I’m writing, to me, have started to change since I use them as a sort of warm before I edit my novel. I’ve also allowed myself to play more than I normally do.

Plus, I’ve started adding my main character from my book, Vivian, to some of them to tempt. (Though who knows if that’s what it’s doing.) Those tidbits are more her past and backbone for her story. Thus, you get to see the antagonist, Dr Embridge, too.

Anyways, here they are! Hope you enjoy!

 

August 6th

Kisses burn

With passion’s flame

Spreading

Spreading

like #Wildfire

to her core

now fire herself

She threatens to consume

Him

and his body

Satisfy a woman’s needs

might cool

the heat

but embers catch

alight again

the Pattern repeats

until they’re One

in Lust’s hold

 

August 7th

Vivian’s eyes shifted colours, betraying her #emotions. The deep blues of the ocean formed in her gaze and she wept. Her sister, Ravenna, stared like an unmoving stone statue at her, cold.

Embridge’s voice called her attention, Deal with her, please.

Vivian’s world went black.

 

August 8th

The ocean spray reached for her white robes and dampened her hair before the early sun. The water kissed her pale feet, tugging at the fringe of her outfit. She heard it whisper, Join us….

But she couldn’t. The wet wilderness would #evaporate if she failed her task.

 

August 9th

Morning #glory grew beside the stone cottage. It climbed it, surrounded it like it had caged those inside. Flowers bloomed on its vines, dark violets and sapphires.

The young woman let out a calming breath and approached the only visible part of a door. Her knock rang out.

 

August 10th

Her body curved, dipped, and dived. Its subtle #peaks tempted him in every way. He grazed across her soft skin with the tip of his tongue until he reached the junction between her thighs. Tasting her sweet nectar, he groaned with need. Her moans encouraged him further.

 

August 11th

The walls were a bold #vermillion and screamed of hunger. Mind you, that could be the blood stains, he mused as he sat. As usual, he didn’t have to say a word for the waiter to bring him his meal. Thankful for the privacy, he pulled a thin blade from his pocket.

Gentle as a butterfly’s wing, he cut a sharp line an inch long in his human’s wrist. He used the crystal goblet he’d been given to collect it and licked the wound closed when he was done. Fangs appeared where his canines should be as he sipped the warmth of the blood.

 

August 12th

She wears a #shell to protect her thin skin. It’s lined with shelves filled with words collected through the day. At night, she sheds the second skin, dissects her collection. The sentences run on the treadmill of her mind until they are broken into every hurtful meaning.

Hurt does Hurt

Hearts house many things
     Not all are fluffy dreams.
           Some are the darkest beings
                Demons dressed as sheep.
                      They dwell in broken children
                            Crying into the night.
 
       Answering prayers for vengeance
             Their darkness can only spread.
                    Bullies’ words are their weapons
                          Weighted like sharp boulders.
                                 Lashing out in violence
                                       These demons scar another’s life.
 
                  The blackest of evils
                        help those who cannot rise
                              Not with encouragement
                                    But knives dressed as lies.
                                         Sharpened by daily suffering
                                                They seek out their vicious prey.
 
If only kind words were cheap
           They might help save a life.
                        But hey, we’re only human
                                     And we all live in various strife.

Very Short Stories, Week 8

Your favourite Monday post is here, and it contains my #vss365 for the week! Seems like I enjoyed darker themes, but they have their place, too, right?

Twitter’s #vss365 has kept me going, and engaged on otherwise horrible days of late. It has kept my anxiety, depression, and etc at bay. I am very thankful for the word prompts that @_Irene_Dreams_ is coming up with, day after day, as a result. Check her out if you want some inspiration on a less than inspiring day!

Anyways, here are my very short stories!

 

June 4th

Sitting in the #lotus pose, she imagined a shield surrounding the green energy of her mind. Like a gardener, she plucked out the colours that belonged to others, and reinforced the wall. One day this will be second nature, she hoped, but first I must control this gift.

 

June 5th

Dressed in black, the figure stood before him, surrounded by fog. He clasped his hands before him in silent prayer, desperate for the #phantasm to evaporate. Eyes shut tight, he was startled by the weight of a hand on his shoulder, and he screamed his fear like a banshee.

 

June 6th

Words unspoken clawed at her throat, desperate to be released. But she knew if said, the divide would be too great, and the fires would burn past remembrance. Instead she played the part of a #craven, and smothered them into her darkest depths. Hopefully it was worth it.

 

June 7th

The #century’s past was one mired in
blood, sweat, broken bones,
and mangled bodies.
War,
Famine,
Pestilence,
and Death
rode forth,
claiming time
and land
with their cruelties.
Those with Faith
remained strong
and rallied.
Fighting for a Dawn
still hiding.

 

June 8th

Pillars of #smoke darkened the sky, and blocked the warmth of the sun. Rubble littered the street with both the dead and the living. Buildings stood on toppled legs, waiting to fall. The eerie silence filled with wails, and commands.

All on an otherwise normal day.

 

June 9th

The greens and browns of the room spoke to a woodland #motif, calming and wholesome. A crib made of maple stood in the corner, and beside it, a changing station. Sat in the nursing chair, she folded clothing on her growing tummy, and hummed lullabies to her future babe.

 

June 10th

#Wings float and flare above the water
Wings dip and dive through the air
Wings lift and laugh with the sunlight

Wings share the colours
Of a forgotten rainbow

Wings twirl and dance before our eyes
Wings magic and muster joy inside
Wings falter and fall from our lives

Demise

Oh dearest friend of mine,
Use this stick and draw line,
Stand there til the dawn of time.

And when bright light shows its face,
You may then leave this place,
Yet find that all has been erased.

I charge you now, to start again,
To write the stars that now defend,
What broken will be made to mend.

When the end returns once more,
And destroys the earth back to the core,
We’ll heal what is now left sore.

See it, Worth

They left everyone behind.

Told them ‘You’re a waste of time.’

They crept under their rock

Surfacing only for a hand out.

I was a fool to think

I could prove myself

to Them.

That I was worth having around.

But you see,

I am a people pleaser.

Raised to bend for everyone else

But me.

I will bend

I will break

I will end up shattered

All for another’s love and appreciation.

Now it’s my turn to leave Them behind,

Tell them ‘You’re not worth my time.’

Love is a two way street

And I am not going to drive both sides

For Them.

Not when they refuse to see me as I am.

Not when family means nothing.

I am learning my worth

And screw those who can’t see it.