Forgo the Mask

Discontentment – that restless inability to surrender to distraction – not easily masked Wired, I am, for intrigue – a dramatic actor displaying mystery, baiting an audience Denial dons noise-cancelling headphones, blinders – invested in illusions Harmony the end-goal – no point disguising, discontentment ignored. (Written for Sammi Cox’s Weekend Writing Challenge – mask, in […]

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After The Party

99 emails await attention brain, like legs, plastic – To do’s flood consciousness, constrict breathing – The sun, reacting to yesterday’s intensity, has stayed away – a co-conspirator in misery I wait for illumination – clear direction on how to begin, motivation to follow Dampness seeps in – a body-snatcher – I must move Emptied […]

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No Race Today

Left leg on strike, brain disengaged, energy scrounging for re-charge coming up empty Body derelict – this illness sensual agony – forgive my silences, any absences Spirit like a racehorse strains against the reins too taut, hungry to feel the wind in its stride, breath freedom. Gate is closed. (The challenge of living with chronic […]

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Love Talk

It’s like cycling uphill in three lanes of traffic in a snowstorm trying to communicate with you I keep peddling – sending signals – but you’re like the SUV spraying slush in your wake hindering  progress, ignoring my needs… Aren’t we soulmates – in tune, hearts beating as one – words superfluous between us? Then […]

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Muddled Waters

Conscience clear, even circumspect, no hidden motives, just a desire for closeness, an intimacy only two can share, and yet even as you approach I feel my waters clouding, doubts scurrying across surfaces…

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Losing Direction

Certain, are we, of the direction chosen, authoritative in our drive… yet, impulsivity rides along and our assets are but plastic, and these dreams of ours are they even realistic? Oh how adversity casts aspersions; how easily plans crumble focus deteriorates, threatens to abandon, desire takes a back seat to the dictates of old agendas… […]

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Speak No Evil

Suspect these sentiments, gnarled and ungrateful, only serve to tip the scale in favour of cynicism have, therefore, decided on self- imposed quarantine; will be keeping thoughts to myself, thank you. Suffice to say that having confronted multiple betrayals, and insurmountable heartache, all pointing vile accusations at a lack of discernment, and questionable self-worth, I […]

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Fabricated

The loom on which I weave these threads is more foreboding than machinery These fibers neither silken nor wool, cottoned from misadventures, miscommunications, and inner unraveling (Written for Sammi’s Scribbles Weekend Writing Prompt #60: Weave)

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