a poisonous relationship will kill any free spirit.
the words and intent
angst flow now thru my fingertips
run away from my heart
I urge the poison placed
like acid there for nigh too long
killing who I had been
i air out my soul
i glimpse what I lost
now that I am
Today is an offering of fiction in a mere 55 words a la G-Man.
I continue my quest with other writers taking the a to z challenge this being the letter “K”
when living in the box has worn out its welcome where do we go?
It had all gotten so old
conforming had never been my style
I liked self expression
using the broad brush to make my statement
they had pushed me too far
I am after all human
I squeezed into this box for too long
I am getting out of said box and creating a new me
Thank you to G-Man who each week gives us a place to come as ourselves. Happy 55 all!
Photograph – I wish I had someone to attribute to this photo as it was found in public domain
Can you smell it, feel it, hear it?
Of course I can
It’s the senses of Christmas
Gingerbread and shortbread in the oven
Pine from the tree
Spices of hot cider congealing
Seasoned wood on the fire
Bing Crosby singing with his smooth as scotch voice
one more thing
Our Family gathered enjoying being together
Wishing all of you a joyous Christmas. A time to celebrate time with friends and family. A special thanks to G-Man who looks upon all his followers as good friends.
The tale of the broken heart many different stories always the same result.
“This wont hurt” he said with false assurance.
The blade was sharp and swift.
Before she knew, it was severed – a connection of beating hearts
His malefic grin bore no shred of concern.
The tears on her face wailed at the blow.
another week to share a moment of flash fiction with friends over at G-man’s place
Thanks to Creative commons and Pikimota for this blade http://www.flickr.com/photos/pikimota/2545303912/
What she didnt know – he had applied this blade to many yearning hearts.
Often the moon is said to change people’s moods. This moon soothes the savage beast.
“What is the point? ”
No one answered or cared.
The moon was full and bright.
I scowled at the sky.
I heard in the gentle breeze
“look in the reflection here”
I saw soft white light.
It was no reflection of my feelings
“There’s a point to the moon” I concluded
It keeps me sane!!!!
thanks to the G-Man for “sane” Friday Flash Fiction in 55