Finished

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At the peak of the crest
She’s tossed aside
Flung carelessly
Violently
Without regard
Against jagged rocks
And hollow crevices
Where life once teemed
With awe and discovery
Her battered body
Lies forsook
Bloodied and bruised
Lifeless and forgotten
Her daggered flesh
Barely responding
As the salty spray bites
Licking at her wounds
Washing away the evidence
Of a vindictive heart
And she gives up the fight
Succumbing to the void
As the tidepools shimmer
Beneath a forlorn moon
Her spirit at last
Drifting away
Soundlessly
Serenely
On the wisp of a thread
Life reclaimed

© 2019 Michelle Cook

Always in a crowd

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No matter day nor time
He’s mysteriously there
Often presenting himself
As a charming reflection
Or sometimes merely peering
Through airy sheers
As if lost in another dimension
And when I see his hazy image
Forming late at night
Standing casually by the curb
Under that old, misty lamp post
I’m fully convinced
That my delusions
Are fully functioning
As the churning whirls of smoke
Find their way
Over to my door
Each captivating puff
Curling up against my nose
Alighting my senses
With the waft of bygone days
Ones that could never be forgotten
Even though their existence
Is a fallacy in itself

© 2019 Michelle Cook


For a month of writing prompts, click here;  Always in a crowd

 

Forgotten

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It’s hard to trust again
When someone ceases to care
When suddenly they leave you
As if you were never even there

And it makes me wonder
If I should ever try again
Nobody knows the hurts
I’ve felt deep within

To most I’m just a face
As common as can be
Just an ordinary girl
Who most will never see

I walk through this world
Forgotten and unknown
This is what it’s like
To be dismissed and alone

 

© 2019 Michelle Cook

Forsaken

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The sheets
Were the only witness
As to what transpired
That day
Ending up discarded
In a disheveled mess
On a cold
Barren floor
Tossed nonchalantly aside
Like they never
Even mattered
All the warmth
They ever gave
Instantaneously forgotten
As a sudden moment
Of unforeseen passion
Left them crumpled
And useless

© 2019 Michelle Cook

Running to Who from Where

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Running low on hope
empty desires fade on the winds
rescue seems futile in the footnotes
of reckless endangerment
and sin’s
got an $8.50 ticket to my scene
blood, forget, more blood in my dreams
there’s rivers, but I can’t drink
there’s night, but I can’t sleep
just me and my memories run amuck in mind
just me and my sanity, hiatus for long times
just me and my insecurities, I need a sign
just me and
I can’t finish the line
I’ve done so much wrong
Would it even be right?
To go on
To become one with the light?
I’ve won and I’ve lost
Tossed
And I’ve turned
To bring back what could’ve been
That just isn’t me
Once remembered
Once forgotten
And once again
I lay here alone
Ideas and thoughts not of my own
What happened to a home?
Or a place to call my own?
Well that just isn’t foretold
Feeling old
Yet it’s only cold
Feeling gray
Yet what can I say?
To the me that has yet to be seen
Or is that just simply a dream?
Just who am I?
To be brave?
To be saved?
To brave the calling of reality
To lose my senses of insanity
I want to say it’s alright
But how can I?
Just a lie
Then I sigh
Even though I try
I just can’t seem to say good-bye
Maybe there is more
Turning a blind-eye to what made me sore
Yet I can’t let go of the “Who” that is me
And I can’t let go of the “Where” that I might go
And I can’t bring myself to give up
On what might’ve been saved

 

Written by, Devereaux Frazier and Brianna Cook

*All italicized words written by Devereaux.

Just want to say thank you, to both Devereaux and Brianna for your participation.  This poem is wonderfully written.  You both did an amazing job!  😉