The rain is battering the skylight, and Bess sits close to the radiator, chilled to the bone.

Her eyes are glued to her computer, watching the little dot that was Mike moving away from her as she wept.

“I’m done,” he’d said. “I’m leaving.”

But she couldn’t let him go in weather like this. The rain would turn to ice at any moment. She had to go after him.

Bess sped as fast as she could to reach him, but the dark, icy rain was blinding and her tires were starting to slip.

They never found each other.

Or Bess.… Read the rest

I am a broken person. I was a broken person when you met me, and you were broken, too. I suppose we justified ourselves by saying, we’re so much alike, we have so much in common, we enjoy each other’s company so much. It was only after the fact, once everything fell under the category of “too late” that we realized the weight of our choices, and how our baggage doesn’t jive like the rest of us. But we love each other so much. 

Today’s poetry prompt words were: justified, after the fact, and weight.

_{Photo by Michael Fenton on} … Read the rest