Living day to day, depending on his luck for sustenance
Orbiting his need for money and his need to be creative
The two pulling in opposite directions, their tidal forces ripping him apart
Today was a day where art and hunger went hand in hand as he painted
Every ounce of his imagination was placed on the canvas stroke by stroke
Revealing a mixture of magic and his soul, bound in sweat and paint
Yet it didn’t sell, leaving him destitute and feeling like he lost at life
What seemed so light moments before threatened to pull her down into the depths of despair
Every time it happened it took so much strength to try to pick up the pieces and try to move on
It was no use. She broke.
Giving way to the gravity of it all, she sunk to the floor
Her eyes teared up, the heavy drops of water falling
They were children!
Lifting those around her with the strength of her humor
Always trying to coax a smile and plant a seed of happiness
Understanding sometimes people need to cry
Giving them the space in those moments to finish watering their emotional crop
Helping eventually the next crop of the giggles to grow after that soaking
Be there for each other
Remember, you will someday not be here
And what you do and who you help will be all you leave
Verify that legacy is the one you want to represent you
Even if some say you’re weak, show them that weakness can be strength. Be…
Pushing her body to breaking never helped anyone
Unless you were talking about her guilt
Now she was here and wondered if this time she had gone too far
It seemed to make sense in the heat of the moment
So now hanging on this rockface fifty feet up and her strength giving out, she wondered
How did eating a single extra Oreo do this to her?
Selecting the right words to give strength to the tale
Managing to weld together sentences without seams
Intricate work with the hammer to make the whole thing take shape
Then quenching it with an editing pass to give it durability
How a writer forges stories from raw emotional stock
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Bent over itself over one hundred times
Leaving a subtle strength and flexibility
And then quenched for hardness
Deidre respected everything the katana had been through
Everything she had done, and then some
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The ring bound him to her. He wondered what insanity had caused him to willingly volunteer to wear the cursed thing in the first place. Still, in that moment of weakness, he had accepted her boon and doomed his soul.
He looked at the perfect circle of gold and thought about chopping the whole finger off. He’d be better off maimed for the rest of his life. He couldn’t do it though. She had taken so much of his strength that he didn’t have the fortitude anymore.
Instead he closed his eyes and dreamt of her when she was alive.
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So many people on the dance floor
Motion like the ocean crested through his body
A small clear spot emptied around him
Sending his body onto larger motions
His dignity realized this did not bode well
Even though it was sinking in all the alcohol
Drinking was definitely not his strength
Stories and photos from Scotland
A paper-cut survivor
Abdi Mohammed
We Survived and Arrived - Now as Warriors We Thrive
With previous posting of "Our World" on Blogger
Sharing is Learning
Author GD Turner, Horror, Science Fiction, Poetry
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.
The Official Home of Rolli - Author, Cartoonist and Songwriter
Wise. Witchy. Wonderful.
Never Short On Words 