Sorry x2 (an acrostic poem)

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So, I haven’t posted here for a couple of days

Of course, I hate when that happens

Really, I wanted to post, but I was burning the candle at both ends

Reaching a point where the words would not come

You can be assured I am sorry and will try to do better in the future.

And now a bonus poem/story…

She wanted to tell him she had been wrong in what she did

Or maybe not quite wrong, but maybe more mistaken

Reaching out, she cupped his cold face with her hands

Ready to finally apologize for what she had done

Yet she couldn’t though since he was already dead

Wisp (an acrostic poem)

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Watching the spirits dance in the moonlight while nursing her new bruises

It made her want to run out there and join them.

She knew she shouldn’t.  She knew what would happen.  She would never come back.

Pushing off her back step she decided it was better than the alternative.

Stern (an acrostic poem)

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Somebody should have known better

That would have prevented the switch from coming out

Everyone wanted to run and hide

Run and hope someone else would take the beating

Not that any of them had real hope.  One look at her face made that disappear

Cocktails (an acrostic poem)

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Can’t figure out which flavor of Daquiri she wanted

Of course there was the Classic Martini, or one of a hundred permutations

Can’t forget the Old Fashioned, but she thought she wanted something newer

Kicking back a Whiskey Sour might put a nice pucker on her lips

Though maybe some bubbles with a Moscow Mule

Ah, or going tropical and hit up a Mai Tai

If not perhaps a Sloe Gin Fizz would hit the nostalgic spot, but not tonight

Leading her to decide on a Rum and Coke since sometimes simple is better

She was sad when her drink disappeared after she misplaced it moments later.

Mole (an acrostic poem)

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Making traditional Mexican sauces always made Maria smile

Of course, her Abuela made them so well that she should really sell them, but she wouldn’t

Leading to Maria secretly recording the kitchen for the next 24 hours

Everyone will suspect her brother when the recipe gets sold, but she was going to be the…

Feast (an acrostic poem)

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Focusing on the food was what gave him pleasure

Every morsel perfectly prepared and consummately seasoned

At the moment he could think of nothing better existing in the universe

So why was his stomach still an echo chamber of empty rumbles?

The fact the meal in question was just an old magazine spread and he had no money

Grip (an acrostic poem)

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Giving up and letting go of reality

Realizing being delusional is so much easier to cope

If you think about it, though, that is so scary to do

Perhaps It might be better to hold on for dear life

Heal (an acrostic poem)

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His heart was shattered into shards that stabbed his soul and made it bleed

Every day he tried to put one or two more pieces back together as best he could

And some days his heart broke more than he fixed it, yet overall

Living slowly got better, forever different, but better

Siege (an acrostic poem)

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She felt under attack during her interview

It seemed that every person wanted to tear her apart, break her

Every time she had five minutes to herself, she almost broke down and cried

Getting this chance was her way to something so much better, but was the battle worth it

Examining her casualties, she decided no. 

Length (an acrostic conversation)

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“Look, it’s true what they say about… you know.”

“Except I don’t know. Please educate little ol’ me.”

“Not on your life! If you don’t know, well then all the better.”

“Good grief! Be a man and tell me.”

“That would be funny if it wasn’t so ironic.”

“How come? Telling me would be such a… small thing.”