There was nothing in the world
that I ever wanted more
than to feel what it was
like in your arms.

Now, I feel invisible,
not that I don’t matter,
just that I don’t matter to you.

We’ve always lived
in house of cards and
now the walls are crumbling.

Today’s poetry prompt words were: nothing else, invisible, and cards.

_{Photo by Roger Starnes Sr on Unsplash}

Get me out of here has been on my mind quite a bit these days. The urge to just get up and run out the door. I wouldn’t take a thing. Bags unpacked, purse abandoned, phone smashed, I’d run.

I’d speed down the highway heading west, hitting the low shoulders as I pass on the right, I’m in too much of a hurry for rules, as I’ve always been, and now it’s time to live my life.

But first, I have to find it.

Who the fuck am I?

Who the fuck am I to think I can just run … Read the rest

I feel like both the boat and the iceberg at once, the killer and the to be killed.

The killer didn’t know it was doing anything wrong. The killer was at peace in its ocean, hiding. You know, when they say “it’s just the tip of the iceberg” means you only see a little bit of the malice.

But then the boat comes, and with no slowing and no flexibility, she careens into the iceberg, breaking this peaceful beast to pieces.

It didn’t matter if the boat tried to take last minute extreme measures.

The iceberg was always there, and … Read the rest

You wondered why I’d become so comfortable with not cuddling as much, not hugging as much, and I said it’s because now I can count on you like clockwork to be here, to come home to this bed.

Had I known the time was coming when your affection would be doled out in limited supply, I would have taken more when I had the chance. I would have held your hand on the couch every day. I would have rested my hand on your leg as you were driving, I would have hugged you from behind as you stood and … Read the rest

She thought she was going to have a good life, but she didn’t, no she didn’t.

Every scrap of love was fickle, every realized dream a nightmare.

Everyone who told her she was sweet as lollipops had no problem dropping her in the trash when they were finished sucking the life out of her.

But how are you today?

Today’s poetry prompt words were: no she didn’t, fickle, and lollipops.

_{Photo by Crazy Cake on Unsplash}