writers – Page 15 – Thistle Thoughts

#NaPoWriMo: Day 25

a verbal knife wound
twisting
every fiber of my being
until I’m
scrubbed raw

…voice the scraping metal
sound of teeth
on a fork,…

Odd half-smiles
and congratulations
are thrown about
like the farewell rice.

A cherita.

Never question
me beneath moonlight,
or in the throes of battle.

One spark for life
and pale ash skin
becomes brazen.

One can grow accustomed
to disappearing acts

There were many terms for what happened.