"Sooner or later, somehow, anyhow, I was bound to write a novel. It seems vain to ask why. Men are born with various manias: from my earliest childhood, it was mine to make a plaything of imaginary series of events; and as soon as I was able to write, I became a good friend to the paper-makers."Robert Louis Stevenson (1850-1894)

Wednesday, 9 May 2012

Falling Apart

Every beat of my heart hurts,
That means it must have broken.
Vomit rises in my throat,
Stomach tangling in knots,
My eyes burn with stinging tears.

When did I become afraid,
Of the man I've always loved?
His rage and hatred chill me,
I don't understand the anger.
I love him, but it burns me.

He loathes my everything.
I just wish I could fix it.
I miss him. His smile and his
embrace. The sound of his laugh.
All that is left is this shell.

Depression consumed his soul,
Left him trapped in the dark.
I can't bear to watch him dying.

I try so hard to be strong,
Faking smiles and hiding tears.
It gets harder every day.
It is inevitable.
I am going to crumble.

Inside I'm already broken.
Piece by piece I fall apart,
Secret pain I cannot share.
Often I am told to leave,
but how can I abandon him?

Brutality

My heart broke that day,
I heard it crack open,
Ripping and splintering,
Broken shards of pain.
I heard it out loud,
A harsh, inhuman howl
Spilling from bruised lips.
The cracked skin stings
Tears washing it with salt.
Love hurts. Love is brutal.


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Way back at the beginning of A215, the lovely Paula K Lewis set up a series of challenges to get us in the mood for the course, I didn't have time to participate, but now as I face a case of writers block, I am giving them a try. Thanks Paula.


Challenge 1 -  Write a poem of 40 lines or less, using 'Brutality' as your theme. You are free to interpret this however you wish.