Been promised that everything would be fine
Except that was never going to be true
That shouldn’t have surprised her
Rachel had grown up on the wrong side of the tracks
And no one there was ever able to keep their word, even if they tried
Yet this one hurt more than all the rest put together
Everett said he would always be there to hold her, to help make things right
Death had conveniently gotten him out of that, the bastard. She spit on his grave.
Reducing the document to confetti
It made her feel so good to be finally free
Perhaps leaving the remnants of their marriage certificate on his grave was a bit petty, but he wasn’t going to hurt her ever again
Down to my last chance, I offer a prayer to the lukewarm plastic cubes
I then release them to bound across the table, watching them unleash their chaos
Cartwheeling and spinning among all the possibilities and futures
Eventually coming to rest as tombstones on my luck’s grave
Image: i.ytimg.com/vi/hr8iI576BY8/hqdefault.jpg
Reach deep down inside of you when you feel dead
It’s there where you’re power resides
Set it loose upon your world
Everyone will fear your inner zombie
Undead and dangerous, you climb out of your energy grave
Pushing upright you shuffle off to find your brains
Image: unknownperson79.files.wordpress.com/2016/08/wp-1470124242989.jpeg
Being all alone was hard on Mary
Losing Rachel at such a young age left a scar
Even after four years, Mary would return weekly to the grave site
Sharing her thoughts and dreams, troubles and victories
So much of her life was under that dirt
Everything just seemed so much harder
Daily though she thanked God for the chance to keep Rachel alive in her heart
Image: previews.123rf.com/images/chrisdorney/chrisdorney1310/chrisdorney131000034/22628988-in-loving-memory-inscribed-on-a-gravestone-.jpg
Counting the number of tchotchkes lying around his desk
Lee chuckled at his little army
Under his desk was at least another box or two of them
To think at one time they personalized his cubicle
That was before he was laid off this morning
Eventually he would have to find a place for them at home
Realizing he had no space for them there, he left them there as a grave marker
Image: c1.staticflickr.com/4/3012/2774996349_0789f870ae_b.jpg
The Art of Prose and Poetry
self-publishing
Tagline
Sarah Torribio and her right brain. Music. Musings. Writing. Style.
We Survived and Arrived - Now as Warriors We Thrive
With previous posting of "Our World" on Blogger
Sharing is Learning
AUTHOR
Random Stuff I Think You'll Like
Things I love, typically with people I love. Will likely be hiking, baking, and doing other things that make me happy.
Story world
SkEtChEs of my everyday life through tiny words, artworks, quotes, clips, and snapshots--- capturing a moment in time.
Never Short On Words 