feels like it’s over
done it all
seen it all
had it all
to look forward to
think I’ll go now
The inspiration for this piece came by way of Peace at Noon – Fabrice B. Poussing
protected by troops
legally a painkiller
black trade heroin
either way, people dying
by the hundreds and thousands
Inspired by Inspired by Hélène Vaillant What do you see? 11/6/18
Image above from the post.
“No one can know, Tom. I’m afraid of what will happen!”
“Don’t you think I know that, Sherry?”
Both quietly uncomfortable carrying their heavy load. The sweat on their brow evident from the efforts of hauling this load to the pier.
Pausing briefly, they looked at each other.
“Are you ready, Sherry?”
“Yeah, let’s do this, Tom.”
They watched as the suitcase dropped in the water. Bubbles immediately appeared after it plunged into the water. The bricks helped to force it further down.
“I feel like I just lost my best friend, Tom.”
“Well, yeah, because you just did, Sherry!”
Inspired by Reena’s Exploration Challenge – Week 60
you dared to cross me
watch as I brew your ending
with a single hair
bubble, bubble. your trouble
laughing as your life drains out
This Tanka poem inspired by Hélène Vaillant “What Do You See – 10/23/18
Image supplied from the post
Enjoyed creating this, Hélène! Had never tried this type of poem before. 🙂
Feelings of anguish.
The call came expectedly.
“We lost her today.”
It’s odd to feel alive again after someone’s death. But, actually, it’s kinda refreshing.
I’ve had my share of dysfunctional people in my life. The most troublesome ones from my past are dead now. Other relationships that have died over the years are also thankfully in my rearview mirror. But not before enduring a brief stint of anger and sorrow, of course.
It sounds morbid but here’s to making clean breaks and fresh starts with a death!
Seriously, the result of those losses turned into a renewal of me. The chaos was over, for sure. Peace! No more “What’s going to happen next?” along with no more drama, of any kind. There wasn’t anything more to fight over, feel guilt or shame about. No more tears of frustration or anger. It was over. I was facing my future my way from that point on. I got to say a final goodbye to the shit storm those relationships held over me.
I could breathe again, and more importantly, I could live.
She’d had enough.
His end was near, didn’t know it though. He was clueless.
Her knuckles tightened around the elegantly shaped wine glass. Instinct and rage fueled the glass crashing into the side of the table. Only one crescent-shaped shard fell away.
It was the perfect edge to damage a pulsing artery.
She gracefully, furiously, lunged for the side of his throat. His vital organ cut wide-open. A rhythmic stream began pumping out, gushing blood down and out over his body. With stunned horror, he gripped his throat to stop the bleeding.
She watched, fascinated, as he was dying.
There will be an end to enduring suffering.
A permanent respite from all that is wrong with the world.
The light slowly leaving.
Dolor creeping into this blank space in my head.
Swallowed up in this ever-deepening gray haze minimizing my liveliness.
Pitch-blackness, my old friend, immobilizing me again.
No energy, desire, motivation or strength.
This thick sadness creates a loneliness where hope can’t creep in.
Courage oozes away, one drop after another of life leaking to somewhere it can’t return from.
Goals left to die in the waves of this depression.
Silent tears pitching between wet, heavy sobs.
An aching all-encompassing deep pain leaving invisible scars.
Severe despondency and dejection, I doubt life can go on.
It’s a reality in my head not worth living.
Escape from that which continually pulls me down feels impossible, this devastating extreme of the opposite of happy.
It feels like I’m stolen from me.
I feel over.