Daily Routines

Dabbing powder on my face, images began to flicker in my mind’s eye. On the screen, the story of a killer on the prowl was playing out. I kept my arm steady, applying careful brush strokes.

The story-telling makeup tutorial was creepy by design, with the backdrop of the night sky and weird music playing. Occasionally, the goosebumps would spring up on my arms.

Startled, I turned towards the hearth. I watched something drift by, thinking it was a fly. It wasn’t.

Then, a sneeze and out came some green virus-laden snot. The pressure from my sinus infection was killer.

Inspired by The Sunday Whirl – Wordle #499


wait, again! I have been at this table for an hour now.

“Darling, here’s a tip for your trouble. I won’t be staying,” slipping her a small stipend.

It’s such a blow to my ego when Arthur does this—standing me up and letting me look like a fool. Above all else, you’d think he’d have more respect for me. But no. Oh, why does he defy me so? I swear he belongs in Hades below. I would fly him there myself! Reap what you sow, fool! He better figure it out, or he will lose his life!

Le sigh

A Drunk’s Tale

It took a moment to light the cigarette. The wind seemed to follow me whichever way I turned.

Noticing a random thread on my sleeve, I chose to singe it off with the end of my butt. The other sleeve had even more of a fringe. What a mess I was. Wishing I was dry, I tried to forget about the string on my sleeve. I began to forge ahead through this nasty weather, dreaming about hot coffee with sugar

Alcohol had put me in chains. I was frantic, and I was simple pretty much all of the time now.


The woman was ruthless, positively vicious. She was determined to serve justice to the asswipes who dared tarnish her community. The onlookers’ cheers seeing she wouldn’t settle for just a slap on the wrist, empowered her more, the sway of her stride confident. Perhaps for her fireplace shelf, she’d take his gold chain as a trophy? Oh, the stories all the neighbors would tell to their children with admiration! The neighborhood would call her a hero, her accomplishments spread across every social media platform on the web.

Who was the next example she would send to his grave this month? 


The world is my oyster! I can enjoy myself, play around or divide and conquer. What shall I plan next? Perhaps I shall climb up a tall mountain untethered? Take off all my clothes at the top? I will try not to hurt myself. Here I go! It seems the other travelers watching are worried! 

Halfway up, the ringtone on my cell phone distracts me. It’s my lawyer.

“What fresh hell are you up to now? Do you intentionally not want a  future!  Speak, what do you have to say for yourself?”

“Send a text next time. I’m busy!” Click.

Tracks To The Past

Inspired by Sadje’s What do you see #63 & The Sunday Whirl #489

when memories present
in the silence of my room
i check my expectations at the door
my spine gets comfortable
as i delve deep into the bank of the past
the risk of emotions is high
will my cheeks remain dry
i hear the clunk of metal gears
hobos sleeping in rail cars
their lives in a haze
while i play in the train yard
i wonder in my head where they are now


Holy Monsters

his hateful words
fly into my face
the froth of rage and ravagement
cover my being 
i’ll not forget the date soon

all exposed with my dress up 
this change from innocent to damaged goods
it hardens my soul
as a white trail of semen
rolls down my leg

this sunday he’d preached love
but i could only feel and say hateful things
in the rectory late in the day
my parents writhing in agony
me, cold and still afraid

Worn Down

my head is light
as i breathe in deeply
only to exhale a cough’s sputum
i follow it with a gasp
while clutching my worn out chest
the morning light begins to crown my window sill

another day survived

the neighbors dog proceeds to bark
sunrays drift in to shine brightly
the paste in my mouth tastes acrid
i sigh as my defeat begins to show
the choice before me is to go on
or open up to accept the divine

this might be my last day


there’s now a fire in my heart
your initials carved there like onto the bark of a tree 
just after seeing your eyes look at me that way

i’m floating weightless as if on a stream
there’s an urge to fly out of my skin 
it would seem i’m in love… or lust

watching your trim figure in the lake
as you swim the breaststroke
pulling yourself onto the dock, my mouth drops wide

suggestively you lean in towards me       
your arm wrapping around my waist
i’m not sure if i’m even present anymore


Inspired by Sadje’s Sunday Poser #3 & The Sunday Whirl #483

with wind prodding me towards home
tender reminders and gratitude 
fill my essence as

feed on the love shown me 
no frill or pomp and circumstance
nor silver spoon of connections born 

my friends, my tribe
they flow alongside my road traveled
no words mince, no hearts break

i transfer a kiss to my finger
with a smile and gratitude, place it firmly
on the lips of my family