Superficial

Like a geyser, I gush,
spurting my rage,
but it’s all underneath,
turmoil engaged.

From the top of my head
to the bottom of my feet,
the swells of unrest
continue to heat.

The storm grows stronger,
destruction in its wake.
Still, I try to breathe calmly,
fearing I might break.

And nobody ever knows
the misery I endure;
It’s all just a façade,
a superficial blur.

© 2022 Michelle Cook


Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/grief-woman-cry-destruction-pain-5501796/

The devil in disguise

Capture

Sometimes people cure you
of ever wanting them again
because after enough time,
the realness of them
becomes painfully obvious.

And then it’s hard not to notice,
to see past their ugliness,
to find the beauty deep inside.

And I couldn’t see it anymore,
even though I searched
for years and years.

The disturbing nature
of what I found beneath,
left me wondering if I’d ever
had any sensibility at all.

I am now left in disbelief
of how wrong I truly was.
My overall assessment
was so flawed with personal bias.

But love is blind like that,
and he was the master of deceit.
I suppose he’s summed up best
as the devil in disguise.

© 2020 Michelle Cook


Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/angel-devil-evil-daemon-horror-4198383/

Predators

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Predators
They lurk
In every corner

Falling victim
To their darkness
Has been
My lifelong plight

But the light,
The truth
Always outshines
The dim

And I will continue
My walk
Toward bright things

Rather than
Succumb
To anymore pain

© 2020 Michelle Cook


Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/girl-from-behind-naked-sexy-fashion-1736373/

Buried

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I try to mask it
But it’s there
Buried deep
But not deep enough
Layers of days
And even years
Piling on top
Pushing it down
Trying to erase
The ugliness
The pain
The absurdity
All the lies
One small dagger
Could put an end
To all the misery
All that I feel
And yet even conviction
Of a self
I hardly know
Could right
All that’s wrong
But doubt stifles
My strength
Yielding both scenarios
Futile and foolish
So I continue
To suffer
In endless silence
Because I fail
To utilize
The power
I myself hold
To change
To make a difference
Even a slight one
But still…
If only I trusted
The outcome
If only I believed
In myself

© 2019 Michelle Cook

A touch of perfect

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He was a touch of perfect
And yet perfect was never meant to last
And the problem seemed to stem
From when the present became the past

Over the years he changed
His familiar face I could no longer see
And it was a heart-crushing moment
When he was no longer who I knew him to be

© 2018 Michelle Cook


Writing prompt: A touch of perfect