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
She heard him stumble in
Smelling of smoke and cheap wine
It was half past two
And he had crossed the line
She’d been sound asleep
In such peaceful repose
Then he staggered in
And began licking her toes
She tried to be nice
Even gave him a quick wink
But she was tired of his shenanigans
Whenever he would drink
So she rolled right over
And ignored his advances
He needed to learn
There were only so many chances
© 2018 Michelle Cook
*This is Petunia’s side of the story, you can find Peter’s here.
He came to her
With eyes sparkling bright
It was half past two
In the middle of the night
He was grinning wide
From ear to ear
And had a message for her
That was crystal clear
She winked at him
Then went back to sleep
He was left dazed and confused
Yet made not a peep
His mischievous smile faded
As he gave up the go
Accepting the sad truth
That there would be no show
© 2018 Michelle Cook
This is Peter’s side of the story, you can find Petunia’s here.
She can write for days
In a teary-eyed haze
And the more sadness that develops
The more ink she craves
And she sits in awe of the power
Of a good hard cry
Wondering how tears seem to cause
Such sorrowful thoughts to finally die
© 2018 Michelle Cook
They disintegrate like ash
Fluttering away on lofty breezes
I am nothing and they are always something
Something glittery and unattainable
Pieces of a whole that I will never have
Parts of a picture-perfect world that I will never see
There for a split second in time
Then drifting away at warp speed
Friends are often like that
Hold them close while you can
© 2018 Michelle Cook
