Young Nightmare

Smoke rose in pillars from the field

Fires blasted the soldiers with heat

Sweat dripped down their brows already

Gunfire was heard in the distance

as were the pained screams of dying men

The smell of copper field the air

before the stench of burning flesh joined it

Time dragged for the victims of battle

Commanding shouts led men to fight

Swords clashed and dirks appeared

hoping to kill before another shot fired

 

The mix of sounds left the young boy horrified

He gagged as he struggled to find his commander

The faces of friend and foe both fierce and unwelcoming

Clutching the dagger to his heart

his feet stuck in the bog

He fell, left to crawl amongst the bodies

and pray not to be trampled

 

His eyes met the fear filled gaze of an enemy warrior

A gunshot echoed above them and he screamed

sinking the black blade into the other man’s heart

His hands shook, leaving it embedded

And he rose

 

The commander found him as the others retreated

Paralyzed, he was lifted onto the steed

He’d never felt so tired

It clung to his limbs like wet clothing,

pulling, pulling, pulling

until he sunk beneath its surface

The panted breaths of the horse were all he heard.

 

Baxter

We heard Death’s voice today

As It whispered in our ears

Another friend has gone away

Just as we had feared

 

We felt Death’s hand today

As It rested upon our shoulders

The crushing pain has come again

Put upon us like a boulder

 

We said goodbye to Death today

As It called Baxter’s name

His paws clicked as he walked away

And with his brothers, he’s gone to play

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

RIP Baxter (04/14/2020). You were a good friend to my sister and my mom. You kept a piece of our grandparents with us. You reminded us of Dodger and Jasper before they passed. You were a sweetheart who played the part of cantankerous a**hole and still you were loved for it. You will be missed and your place can never be taken. Have fun in your healed body and say hi to Jasper and Dodger for us.

VSSPoem, Week 4

September 30th

A family gene

that jumped over her
#Charm
She couldn’t

Not with a filthy mouth

or dirty mind

Honesty in every word
She couldn’t

Not with a fearful heart

or dark soul

Her pain wishing to spill
Her family

#Charmed

Friends from foe

Neighbour

Stranger
But not her.

 

October 1st

My #identity is pasted on plastic cards

With a name

My height

My birth date

My address

But I am more

than a shitty picture

and basic details.

 

I have a voice

A face under my mask

 

Paper and Plastic

don’t define me.

 

October 2nd

#Trust is another thing

that rusts.

Breaks like a chain.

Nobody’s mistake.

 

October 3rd

This sword is sharp

Meant to cut

Render flesh

Into ribbons

Draw blood

With a jab

 

It’s thin

Like my #patience

Worn down

By quick words

And quicker stabs

 

Perhaps it’s best

I wield a wooden weapon

 

At least

Until I’ve proven

My #patience is stronger

My lips sealed

 

October 4th

Like a sun inside

The light fades

And #dims to darkness

Hides behind frowns

Forgets how

To even smile

She tries to rekindle

Reignite the flame

But the wick remains

Unburnt

The lighter flashes

To life yet drains away

And she remains

#dimmed

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.

Cancer

I

Hate

Cancer.

Its hand creep and crawl

like warped vines.

Its touch tarnishes and taints

like nails on a chalkboard.

Vile like stomach bile,

Its hold on another one

of those I love.

Is there anything

it won’t take?

Cancer’s game is destruction.

Barbed wire around organs

constricted and stabbed

for working.

Lungs riddled with it.

Every breath a growing burn.

I yearn to ease his pain

and pray peace

finds him in sleep.

Very Short Stories, Week 18

I lost my dog, Jasper, last night. Cancer took him from us in the blink of an eye.  We spoiled him as best we could in his last days.

I don’t have words right now, and I’m sorry my vss365s are a day late… I hope they are relatable reads despite the sadness in them.

 

August 13th

He taught us about #renegades, Vivian whispered to Damian in the back of the army transport. I didn’t understand why since they were rebellious, traitorous, you know? But I get it now.

You do? He asked, his nose wrinkled in confusion.

They always died, she replied.

 

August 14th

#Stubborn

is a word

I wear like a cloak.

Shields my Dreams

from the

Naysayers

and my heart

from the

Breakers.

If I’m Stubborn

as they say

I’ll stay

on

track

Push past the

Mountains

in my way

to succeed.

Stubborn

is a word

I embrace like a

sister.

 

August 15th

#Explosions of gunfire sounded in the distance, echoing off the buildings and nearby woods. Vivian paused for a moment, her eyes wide with worry, but she chased after her sister. They’ll be okay, she chanted in her mind. I have to believe that.

 

August 16th

Her pain was a #symphony played on ripped muscles and broken bones. Her sopranos whimpered and her altos moaned, whilst the male parts sang lists of what to do. She didn’t care for any of it, unwelcome in her body.

She greeted the sedation like a long lost lover. Grateful.

 

August 17th

Damian could only #imagine what Vivian was going through. Needles, scalpels, and a windowless room flooded his mind. His fists clenched, he dropped into a push-up. Raising time and again off bruised and bloody knuckles, a plan formed in his mind. I’ll find you, Vivian, he decided

 

August 18th

My #favourite memory is walking into the pet store and seeing his face. His eyes , one blue and one brown, staring at me as his tail wagged a mile a minute. I knew in that moment he would be my best friend. The least I can do is be by his side in the end.

 

August 19th

Happy memories still #linger though his struggling breaths draw her back to the present. She pets his soft fur, whispering love and sorries into his floppy ears. Pain stabs at her heart like a thousand needles. Tears run freely down her cheeks. But she’ll stand watch over him.