for a time
I basked in the rapture of your attention
reveled in it
believing it was mine to hold
but with irrational infatuation comes a fall
into unsheltered understanding
a revelation of reality
an unmitigated grief which threatens

such heartache
while devastating
is temporary
it’s ephemeral except in my heart
so don’t blame me now
for trying to raise myself
above the hurt
for putting you behind me
and moving on


It’s possible
that the words you read
are the truth, the whole truth
nothing but the truth
(so help me Goddess)

It’s possible
that I am that good
that my ability to spin
goes beyond alpaca and wool
into imagined emotion and fabricated fantasy yarns

It’s possible
that I slice open my veins
allow them to ooze, to drip
that I willingly bare my soul
completely exposed to you in these pages

It’s possible
that this is all half-truths
creations of a chaotic mind
little more than indulgences into a world
I wish existed

Any of this is possible
because writers weave worlds with words
we provide possibilities, propose new perceptions
illuminate the (fifty?) shades of grey between
what is and what cannot be.
You can read what you like in these words
make any assumptions
come to conclusions fallacious or not.
I will simply continue
to provide the impossible
and make it seem possible.

A combination of several prompts today. First, the Fourth Wall challenge from Kerry at With Real Toads. Also, Theme Thursday gave us ‘possibilities’ this week. Lastly, Poets United’s Wonder Wednesday was ‘shades of grey’.

No Good, Goodbye

Words whispered to free you
become bladed boomerangs
turning their deadly carelessness upon me
in seeking silence I find none
only careless, callous chatter
violent vitriol intended only to harm
to maim, to wound.

There will be no more words
no more thoughts, no more feelings.
No longer will I waste my time
seeking solace where none can be given.
I will not tread
softly or savagely
across this dismal desert, this dire dream.