The storybooks say you should have been the wind in my sails, not the drunken sailor weighing anchor in the middle of the ocean. Perhaps I should have believed in you more, blinked away tears to hold you in a blue gaze, bright eyed naivety and wonder - not cold heart mutiny. Except this mate … Continue reading Mutiny
I’ve been asking for love since my hands were smaller, and my eyes were wider. love isn’t what you wanted, instead you were disappointed in anything other - than the complicit retelling of a childhood, of fractured bones, of a ‘happy’ home. © Kristiana Reed 2018 Image credit.
They sat me down on a red couch with cracks so wide my knuckles could nestle. A throne - fit for a king with no home or two homes one there and one here where nothing felt, or smelt the same. ____________________________ WP #7: throne Link your response in the comments below. Image … Continue reading Throne (Weekly Prompt #7)
She remembered Alice's face, The Mad Hatter's grace. Queenie's red chair, 'Off with her head' stare. Fluffy White Rabbit, always late, How easy it was to hate. Hopscotch chalk, An early morning walk. Taught 'nice' was an insult, Believing many things were her fault. Blue bubbles in her brother's room, Indy and the Temple of … Continue reading A child
Ever thought, ever wondered, how we always get back upon our feet? Not this one, not shy ol’ Twinkle Toes, Ballet shoes thrown in a box, Happiness hunted like a fox. Ever thought, ever wondered, how we always battle those heart break tears? Not this one, not shy ol’ Twinkle Toes, Ribbon, scuffed, cut … Continue reading Twinkle Toes