it doesn't have to rhyme, Uncategorized, Word Stories

Apple

She was deep in sleep
as if she had taken a bite of that apple
you know the one i’m talking about
the one that the darkness lured her with
like the glitter and gold
the newer and better
all that shines
so bright it blinds
our perfectly working eyes
to follow it closely
the fragrance
the smell
that disguises the hell
it leads us to
the slaughter
we can’t refuse
but we don’t have to
there’s one who takes our place
at the front of the line
standing face to face
with our hell
to let us go free
her eyes open slowly
then grow big and wide
she looks down at that apple
and tosses it aside.

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Word Stories

restore

by: dreamer is my middle name

I could not sleep. Tossing and turning I keep looking out my window to see if there is any sign of light. When is the sun going to come out?

Finally light. Not very much of it, but enough for it to be morning. Quietly I got dressed and snuck out of the house filled with peaceful sleepers.

My pace increasing as I walked, I couldn’t contain my urgency. Running as fast as I could on the rough terrain I slipped on a rock and fell. My hands and knees stripped of their skin, but had no bearing on my travel.

Sandals covered in dirt, sprinkled with blood from my wounds, I slowed my movement, for I had finally arrived. My heart thumping and my breath as if it had run out, I fell to the ground.

On my knees weeping, I see two pierced feet walk up to me. His pierced hands reach for mine and pull me into a warm embrace.

My hope is restored.

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