Tag: blogging

Gestation

Gestation

Look beyond the bars of my six by two world. See me as a mother, a daughter, a girl. Pregnant, imprisoned, unable to move; Terror growing faster than the litter in my womb. I will carry my young three months, three weeks, and three days; I’ll never see my children, or life, outside of a …

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Feckless Words

Feckless Words

Wasting my life spinning circles; lost in the void. Never quite sure, am I lost or is this all? Searching blindly in the abyss for any sign of relief. In my darkest hour, she saves me from the fall. A shining beacon beckoning me in the night. The star that guides me back to life. …

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Patriotic American Fury

Patriotic American Fury

I am filled with a rage beyond that which a patriotic man can possibly handle. I feel the fiery bowels of Hell boiling up and coursing through my veins. My eyes are bulging with a pulsating fury from my skull… I can’t find my satellite remote.

Breath of Burden

Breath of Burden

I wish I was dead; the thought greeted him as reliably as the sun each morning, and like a loving mother tucked him in snugly to bed each night. The air was heavy, dense. Death wasn’t his desire, it was his escape. His days consumed by unexplained loneliness; hiding in a crowd of friends. His …

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Misery Stains and Woe

Misery Stains and Woe

Ever the failure, consumed by woe; My logical brain knows, but I can’t let this go. Rationality says think happy thoughts, and it should be so. Pleasant musings to drown out unrelenting sorrow. When I try to find the words to describe my pain My world falls apart and my misery stains. Caustic blood of …

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Hiding From Silence

Hiding From Silence

The sound of silence; so fleeting and brief; For some it is a welcome and wanted relief; A reprise from societal cacophony and grief.   Their minds longing for the quiescence from commotion. Idle time to reconcile; to inventory emotion. They flourish, they grow; floating upon an existential ocean.   The sound of silence; so …

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Perpetual Motion

Perpetual Motion

I feel a constant pressure; my existence in a vice. My shoulders burdened by the burgeoning need to matter. I ache for a distraction to ignore the pain of having no purpose.   Growing weary of the questions; Why am I trapped here, angry, anxious and hopeless? Why do I feel this obligation to the …

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First World Problems

First World Problems

Tick The dusk of each forsaken day births the dawn of a disappointing tomorrow. Tock. My heaving chest rises then falls, heavy and strained; each respiration a chore for my weary soul. Tick Broken and defeated, yet optimistic for her; I muster the courage to try again. I’ll always try again. Tock. Feigning the vigor …

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