For You, For Keeps

The writer sits in her designated writing spot. Well, her new designated writing spot. She’s had three in the last year, but a change of scenery is supposed to be a good thing for the mind.

The backspace key is worn, rickety on its plastic arms, waiting to fall off at just the wrong time. The letter M is faded, rubbed away by hundreds of failed presses. The period stands stark and strong. Waiting.

Her dog sighs in the corner. She looks up just as thunder rolls across the dusk sky. Clouds shiver in its wake. The writer pinches the bridge of her nose.

A silver chain trails across her mind’s eye. A long silver pendant, embossed with their saying. You’re my person. A gift, wrapped in a silver box, carefully chosen, but eventually forgotten.

You’re my person. Declarative, possessive. But ultimately useless.

The writer sets her fingers to the keyboard for the final time that day.

M,
The silence you gave me is all I hear now. 

The writer pounds the backspace key. It holds on, its grip tenuous. She begins again.

M,
How could you?

Backspace, backspace, backspace.

M,
You were my person, but was I yours?

Backspace.

M,
I miss you. 

 

Advertisements

NOTE

Sorry for my absence lately! I’ve been working on a book of poetry that I plan to self-publish between now and March. When I’ve finished and published, I’ll post a link here where you can find it. Happy writing!

(YAWN)

The Daily Prompt for today is “What bores you?” so here goes nothing!

Metallic ringing dries the wet
putrid air with its
desperate clanging attempts at
a melody

Black and white letters play
silently across a screen splashed with
faux bold colors and
mouths miming the words they cannot say

A slow drip funnels through cracks
and splashes with the time of a
metronome set to  a sluggish largo

Even fiery blood deafeningly rushes
through arctic blue arteries
in the silence so thick
I can taste it

 

Perhaps this best captured not what bores me, but my actual boredom. Anyway, enjoy!