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

All that glitters (Weekly Prompt #1)

Salty tears streaming down cheeks the edge of a blade in starlight blinking blue eyes. Morning dew and cobwebs doused in rain like glue in nursery gold and blue; sunshine on water Dorothy's shoes. Gold.     WP #1 - all that glitters. Link your response to this prompt in the comments  Image credit.