Leather straps
A memory of searing pain
The kind that leaves
An abusive stain
Lies to cover up
The cruelty and the hurt
Behind locked doors
Where punishment would flirt
Damaged beyond
What she even knew
This is what she thought
Every father would do
Then one day
She realized the truth
Those embedded scars remain
As deplorable proof
© 2018 Michelle Cook
For a full month of writing prompts, click here! Leathery lies
When I start to doubt the world
Pushing it away with all my might
Your words they pull me in
In an embrace that holds me tight
And you give me a newfound hope
That eventually everything will be okay
For those comforting words of yours
They’re what get me through my day
© 2018 Michelle Cook
I miss the feel
Of liquid love
It’s the only thing
I can still think of
I miss the days
Of never being alone
The feel of a warm touch
Melding with my own
I miss the passion
Found in a kiss
And still wish there was a way
To bottle bliss
I miss the life
That I once knew
When I didn’t have to live
Without a me and you
© 2018 Michelle Cook
For a full month of writing prompts, click here! Bottled bliss
I’m still trying to forget
Sweep the rubble under the mat
Dust off the cushions
Where you once sat
But the ruins still stand
Weathered by all the storms
And my heart still feels
Ambivalent and torn
I pray that one day
The past will be buried deep
But the mountains which remain
Seem almost too steep
And I wonder where we’ll be
In the years ahead
Surely scaling those mountains
Or be lost instead
© 2018 Michelle Cook
For a full month of writing prompts, click here! Forgotten ruins
She dreamt of sweeties
Candies galore
Along with mounds of cookies
Piled on the floor
There were licorice laces
Lying all about
And candy corns
Which had just begun to sprout
Marshmallow fluff covered
Her once boring bed
And she began to consider
If she could possibly be dead
The curtains appeared
To be made of toffee
And she wondered if someone
Had poisoned her coffee
She thought this might be heaven
Or potentially a nightmare
While tasting Bavarian cream
As it dripped from her hair
And she thought to herself
Perhaps sweet dreams really do come true
Maybe they just don’t happen
The way they seem they ought to
© 2018 Michelle Cook
For a full month of writing prompts, click here! Bavarian cream dreams
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