Category: Poetic Prose
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Photo by Gaelle Marcel on Unsplash © Simona A. Brinson and mylifeinword.com All rights reserved.
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COMPLICATED If I seem too complicated for you, then I am. For, I am not a girl, but I am WOMAN, so hear me ROAR! I am not a piece of meat, nor am I a whore, to be consumed or used, to be ravaged or devoured. I am to be adored as a precious…
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CRIMSON BLOOM Amid a bed of crimson blooms, in a world ablaze with vibrant hues,Lies an alligator, laced in green, where scarlet petals gently swoon.With obsidian eyes, she basks in the sun’s warm embrace,A silent guardian in this verdant place.Her scales shimmer with a subtle sheen, as if kissed by morning dew,A testament to the…
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Love should not be hidden Constrained or confined By social norms. One should love Boldly, without fear of reproach. One should love With an acuity so accurate That a sniper would envy Your aim and precision. One should love As freely as an eagle soars With wings stretched to span Allowing the wind to carry…
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ROBINS FELL FROM THE SKY There was not a ray of sunshine in sight Overcast and gloom enveloped the skies The clouds saturated the ground With sprinkles of rain The sprinkles briefly turned into showers And morning turned to noon The rains ceased And as I peered out the window Robins fell from the sky…
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A PENNY You hand him a dollar. He gives you a nickel back. You scrape to turn that nickel into another dollar. Then you give him that dollar. He gives you a nickel back, because that’s all he has to offer. If this exchange continues with the same person‒over and over again–you will never have…
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SHE CARRIED The things she carried: His brokenness. His darkness. His abuse. Physical. Sexual. Psychological. The weight of his words – Careless. Daggered. Cleverered. Unspoken. His insecurities. His infidelities. His fractures. His fissures. His busted ego. His lack of integrity. His false bravado. His cruelty. His lack. His oppression. His deprivation. His banal existence. His…
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EMPTY Why is it that we try to fill ourselves from empty jars? Sure, he’s a beautiful vessel–Tall, dark, handsome, and smooth. But his vessel is empty, devoid of the capacity to give, to nourish, to replenish. So empty, in fact, that he can’t even accept what you’re pouring into him. You can pour and…
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