I am a daughter. I am a sister. I have been a friend. I have been a missus. I’ve never been a mother or called “Mommy” either. But, I am my mother. 母にずいぶん似てきたと言われる。 褒め言葉でもないような——— 。
You loved hard, and you’re scarred. Now you know the colors of heart, – bright, vivid, dark and plain, you will find love again. 君が残してくれたもの。 君が教えてくれたこと。
The interior of my heart glistens crimson with a lust for life For The Daily Post’s daily prompt: Interior
Satiated mind, eyes, olfaction, and taste bud on an empty heart. For Three Line Tales, Week Forty-Four
Forgotten and hiding From feasts and festivities. Thankful for wine stock. For Three Line Tales, Week Forty-Three
A silent heart And stifled breath. My soul is tart And longing for death. That’s when I seek art To hide underneath.
It is all my fault. I can not lean on others. So, I am alone. 甘え下手、自縄自縛で、 また、独り。
I exhale slowly, clicking the door behind me, closing out the world. For The Daily Post’s daily prompt: “Solitude“ 気が利かないんだと潔く諦めればいいのに、変な気を使うから面倒に思えて、外に出なくなる。
They had a party at the house that we once lived where we stained the floors with our sweat, tears, devotions, and the soil thrived on our love.
We larked and laughed, looking into our eyes. Had I known it was my last night with you, I would have played our song all night long. Pleaded or prayed, you placed trust in me. Had I known it was my last night with you, I would’ve held you as though not letting go….
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Stroked by solitude and stillness, the sun stirs, strives and soars in silence.