Little Deaths

Your fingers slid down my spine.
Four demanding, nocturnal snakes
slithering in the darkness.
Madly dashing for the little gilt knob at my base.
There, you could trip the switch and
turn me on. And I would sing. I would sing, and
sing the omen of little deaths to come.

© Laura A. Lord, 2016


Written for the prompts over at An Artist at Heart, Uncharted, and Three Word Wednesday.

An Artist at Heart: Miniature Writing Challenge – Music

Uncharted: Six Sentence Stories – Trip

Three Word Wednesday: Week 463 – Madly, Nocturnal, Omen

 

Scattered

I loved you in the darkest of night.
And somehow I expected the imperfect light
of the moon’s crooked smile
to light me up like daybreak.
But you were a lame sunrise.
You were a harrowing curve
and I was scattered as broken glass.
I was scattered as change spilled from your hand,
rolled across the hard, tiled floor.
I was a head’s down penny
and my copper had lost its luster,
so that even then,
in my weakest moments,
I was not worth the effort
to bend.

© Laura A. Lord, 2016


Thank you to Uncharted for their Six Sentence Story prompt  “change,” and to Three Word Wednesday for their prompt words: imperfect, harrowing, and lame.

Calendar

calendar_copy
Cushing Memorial Library and Archives – Creative Commons

There is promise in the new year, in the fresh turn of the calendar page.
There is a resolute melody of positive change and growth.
There is hope lingering in each little, numbered box.
There is a conscious resolve hanging on the edge of that shining Time’s Square ball, that pushes us forward in happy motion.

And yet, let the dates fly by until another birthday approaches.
Let the candles pile upon the cake and watch death’s shadow creep, unwelcomed, unbidden, to leave a black mark that mars this passing of time.

© Laura A. Lord, 2015


It’s amazing how we view the passing of time, how certain events leave us feeling hopeful, and others simply remind us that we only have a short time here on this earth. I hope you all have a wonderful new year and that you are living your life to the fullest.


Thank you to Uncharted for the Six Sentence Story prompt (the theme resolve), An Artist at Heart for the Miniature Writing Challenge prompt (92 words used), and Three Word Wednesday for their prompt(the words resolute, new, and fresh).

Sunrise

19_20_66_web
Creative Commons

The bright light of morning crept through the cracks in our curtains,
shattered across your skin in an astonished display
that outlined the deep blue of your nightgown.
It broke a pattern of light and shadow across your face,
and I let my fingers wander to the lacy edge
draped along your thigh.
Morning’s red rose lips kissed the snow white skin,
there, on the soft spot at your wrist.
For a brief moment, before the light slid heavy and thick
up to completely illuminate your sleeping eyes,
I found myself afraid.
Afraid of what the night had left, scattered about my bed.
Afraid of what the light had shown;
and that somehow it would disappear.

© Laura A. Lord, 2015


This time of year makes me think so much of people who are no longer with me. I remember this woman, from entirely too many years ago. It didn’t last long, but I always wondered what would have happened if I hadn’t been so afraid of commitment back then. She was beautiful…


Thank you to Six Sentence Stories and Three Word Wednesday for their prompts this week!

Overture

untitled
Creative Commons

 

I am a wide range of musical tastes.
I am the savage beating drums of a war dance,
the tense build-up of an ancient overture.
I am vengeful in my need for an audience.
I am needy and blaring,
turned up on high volume.

I am a wide range of musical tastes.
All a little sour, all out of tune.

© Laura A. Lord, 2015


Thank you for the prompts at Uncharted with Six Sentence Stories and the word range, and Three Word Wednesday with the words savage, tense, and vengeful.

Dear Reflection

I know my world was lit by a technicolor moon
that labored in the silence,
poured through the grate of my window
and geminated into the haphazard designs
that lit your face in chicken-wire lines.

Creative Commons: Helga Weber
Creative Commons: Helga Weber

I know that your body was split by torsion,
spread across the bed –
puppet legs cut from the strings and twisted
so that they must be broken
or you are.

I know it is a rare moment for compassion
to slink its way into my heart,
for the razorwine to dull my sense enough
that even I, an inept caregiver,
can ignore your noxious, sour breath,

can find my arms wrapping around you,
tucking your pieces back in,
pulling you together into something almost me,
and wiping away the leftover bits that tell you
this world is not for living in.


I was so behind on my challenges, and more on why this week, hopefully, but in the meantime. . .This was written with words from MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie and Three Word Wednesday. The theme was brought to me by Memee’s Poetry Party and National Suicide Prevention Month. Please check out my book Rumble Strip which deals further with one girl’s struggle with suicide and depression. Thank you.