Rigid

My bones feel rigid like I’m living with rigor mortis, depression’s equivalent of arthritis. There’s nothing the doctor can prescribe; sunshine cannot be packaged and nor can your smile so I guess I’ll just wait in my heaviness. This opaque silence where nothing can relieve the nothingness I feel whenever you leave.     © … Continue reading Rigid

Happy (Weekly Prompt #11)

And then, she smiled and there was something strange in the way my skin trembled in the heat of her gaze, like an everlasting summer.   ________________________ WP #11: happy Link your response to this prompt, below.   Image credit.