Prose
Wrung Me Dry
I would have never chosen anyone over you. Despite the fact that you never gave me grace. You said you waited for me but we both know you were born without patience, you did no waiting. You borrowed my time, used me and wrung me dry, and once I became tattered and didn't bend back fluffy and new from the drying line, you found me ugly, stiffened, not realizing you did the using. Told me to sort it out, foot the dry cleaning bill and return new or as close to it as I could. Even though I had been the one used to clean up all your messes. Losing bits of myself all along the way. Sopping and soaking up, cushioning and cleansing, wash, rinse, and repeating with you. Allowing whatever cycle you were in to run it's full course. Again
By Hayley Matto2 years ago in Poets
My If-ffiness
Another great idea by Rick! You can read his piece here: Here are my responses... If I were a rich person I would be free. Free of debt. Free to travel, if I wanted. I probably wouldn't want, but I'd be free to. That's the thing. Free to live anywhere I wanted. Free to write. So many hours freed up every day to think, dream, create, polish. These are the stories I tell myself about money and I wonder how true they are. I think of Jacob Marley with his long chain and I wonder if that isn't the most perfect bit of financial propaganda in 200 years.
By L.C. Schäfer2 years ago in Poets
Crazy Hair
Miss crazy hair Why do you ask why I stare I’m always looking at the beauty Beneath that crazy hair Thank you for reading my work. If you enjoyed this story, there’s more below. Please hit the like and subscribe button, you can follow me on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram @AtomicHistorian. To help me create more content, leave a tip or become a pledged subscriber. I also make stickers, t-shirts, etc here.
By Atomic Historian2 years ago in Poets
