
Familiar chapters
The lifestyles we all once knew
Alas gone from view
© 2021 Michelle Cook
Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/space-room-interior-empty-4231460/
Writing prompt: Puffed pastries and bric-a-brac

Familiar chapters
The lifestyles we all once knew
Alas gone from view
© 2021 Michelle Cook
Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/space-room-interior-empty-4231460/
Writing prompt: Puffed pastries and bric-a-brac

Loneliness
it comes in many forms
and I have known them all.
But I think the loneliest times
are when I’m surrounded
by a sea of expressionless faces.
Those empty-eyed, silent beings
always appear to be lost in
mind-numbing, alien-sweeping,
brain-snatching activity.
And if I stare intently enough,
focusing long and hard enough,
I can almost see those denatured
souls being surreptitiously sucked
out of every finger-tapping mortal
who has unknowingly fallen victim
to the technological advances
of our times.
It often leaves me queasy
and fearfully uneasy.
For I must admit that I too,
have fallen subject to the
interest of self-isolation
within the matrix.
Using it as a security blanket
for companionship
because community
no longer exists
within the confines
of my existence.
There are instances
when I do attempt
to turn the world around.
And with desperate breath
I try to disengage
from the illuminated rectangle
nestled nice and neat
between my pale palms.
But then loneliness sneaks in,
finding me once again.
And the screen in my hands
becomes the only life left
to be found.
© 2021 Michelle Cook
Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/portrait-woman-black-and-white-2308893/

You’re the only one
who truly ever knew me.
I confided in you
nearly every day.
I whispered to you
all my secrets in the dark,
and promised you
everything my little heart could give.
You were the only one who listened
every day when the fights erupted.
You heard my screams
and comforted me the best you could.
When I cried my eyes out,
spilling out countless tears,
you showed me
that I was not alone.
You never left my side,
which always made me feel loved.
And you’re still special to me,
even though you’re not a living being.
I think you’re the only reason
I had any hope at all back then
because my little girl eyes
couldn’t find love or comfort anyplace else.
© 2020 Michelle Cook

I remain lost
Under the bluest of skies
Nobody, not one
Sees the hurt in my eyes
I am not free
To be who I choose
No matter what I do
I always seem to lose
I once thought
That love was real
But the longer I live
The less that I feel
And the truth is
I’ve never belonged
This is how It’s been
My whole life long
© 2019 Michelle Cook
Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/sky-cloud-plant-dandelion-blue-2969489/

Words
I wrestle with them.
Some are just worth fighting for.
And even one good word can make life worth living — bringing hope to a day, which might otherwise be dark and dismal.
But a bad word can be so disheartening — often reminds me of a rosebud that wilts before it ever has the chance to bloom.
If only our words could always be like rainbows,
we’d never have to feel so gray.
© 2019 Michelle Cook