He ran his paint stained fingers over the scars on his chest. They reminded him of the pleasure she gave him. The raised flesh was soft like her lips, and the memory of the demeaning words came from her lips made him hard. But a rush of sadness formed a stabbing pain in his heart.

He got out of bed and moved towards his studio, brought the half smoked weed with him. Continued to work on the painting, he wanted to finish it by dawn. he had already completed the sketch, and the lilac, pink and white windflowers covered most of the canvas. The final touch was to work on the detail of the ugly weathered window where the viewer would see the field of windflowers from. He might go over the field of windflowers with a wash of rain, might not. His mind was scattered by the earlier encounter with her.

He took a drag of the weed, not sure why he smoked it, it had no effect on him whatsoever. She hated him smoking. Was it the rebel in him, or being spiteful, or making a statement of his new found freedom, or an attempt to distract himself from thinking of her? Without any warning, he was all choked up by the lump in his throat trying to move up to release into salt vapours.


Under my tongue
lie unformed words
like a cluster of emotions
hidden in the silence
you so despise

is not enough
You demand reasons
for the way I am

Apology is not
a peace offering
that pleases you

I offer us peace
by biting my tongue
to set us free


She carried her backpack
with IDs
and walked out 
one day after 
their son turned 18

She became 
the irresponsible one
when her only responsibility
was adult enough
to cope with 
a family breakup

She took the first flight
to a new city
to start a real life
left behind
an adult child
and a juvenile husband


I see you are still hung up on him
You shed tears on a flooded ground
He is not going with anyone else
He just can't grow old with you

I hate seeing you both drown
Flowers die in endless rain
Shaky ground ends in landslide

Don't let your broken heart filter out the sun
Let the rain be the romantic past
Safekeep for your fated one

The Aftermath

Go Dog Go Cafe word prompt – negative, erosion, balance

I look at our past
through sepia negatives
what once was a rock
worn down by the rain of fights
erosion of grief
earthquake of rage
faded into nothing more than particles of clay
on an out of balance
stage of life

I no longer wonder
why you work yourself to death
and I seek solace in the bottles


The Living Poetry prompt – rudiment

I am a steady builder
with a simple mind

So I think
if I take hold of the rudiment of love
I will just build on it note by note
until a love song is created
and sung in harmony
for the rest of our humble life

Halfway through
I realise I am confronted with a pattern
that will not flow in one accord
it is like a stream from the mountain top
descending with the landslide
I believe it will make it on its own
landing somewhere destined by Mother Earth

In the end
I will bawl my eyes out
wholeheartedly celebrating
a masterpiece which we are meant to create together
but now
only you in the centre stage
surrounded by applause
without the sight of me

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