It’s odd not feeling. It’s like having a tight ball sit above the heart, its form writhing like a baby in the womb. Desperate for air. For life. When that ball unwraps itself, something bursts out and fills me despite my pleas.
It’s them, I realize as they incapacitate me. It’s them. The feelings. They’re back.
They’re like a rapid
Current plummeting the shore
A merciless force
Written for: Patrick Jennings’ Rapid ~ Pic and a Word Challenge #169, Pix to Words.
Photo by: Patrick Jennings
To think we’re only specks
To the stars above that glisten
Like flakes of glass in light
Written for Patrick Jennings’ Big – Pic and a Word Challenge #143, Pix to Words
If we could
Go on autopilot,
Or sleep walk,
Or fast forward
Would we ever live?
Photo by Matthew Brodeur
Written for Patrick Jennings’ Speed ~ Pic and Word Challenge #138, Pix to Words
In the City of Light, there was one
Whose warm, gentle luminance made her
The epitome of all that was good.
But then her admirers noticed she possessed
Something that no one in the City of Light
Should have: a shadow. A flaw.
No longer was she a symbol of purity,
But an object of disgust. So, her beloved
Admirers turned their backs on her.
As they walked away, she noticed dark voids
Trailing behind each of them that her light–
Now an object of disgust–couldn’t illuminate.
“Shadows,” she realized with some disbelief.
“Shadows as dark as mine.”
Written for: Patrick Jennings’ Shadow ~ Pic and a Word Challenge #125, Pix to Words