M.K. Lee's Blog: Telling Tales, page 115

Ink

You ingrain yourself into my deepest skin, staking your claim in the etching of ink,
As though your quill is ever-flowing, spilling into me streams of opalescent ink…

See the rest in Shades of me

 

Regret

Sparks of realisation
In a hailstorm of sharded glass
Stinging pitted wounds wide open,
Diffracted windows on the past.
Pinpricked open eyelids
To keep the memories alive,
A draw to keep returning there,
To where false hope once thrived.
Seasoned with sand and salt
To keep the taste upon the tongue
Of bitterness of all that’s lost
And sweetness that’s long gone.

Mannequin

A mannequin strikes all kinds of poses,
Wears colours and clothes it cannot choose.
Has no need for perfume or even roses.
Has no opinions and nothing to lose.
Removing all options sounds akin to heaven,
Not lurching in decisions and getting things wrong,
If all is decided then think of the freedom
That comes with singing someone else’s song.
But what can come of being void of emotion?
What kind of life is lived when standing still?
If your only purpose is their ministrations,
What good are y...

Hatred

Hatred is an acid that corrodes your innards.
You are, effectively, eating me away.
Five minutes alone in a room with you,
With no filter on what I can do or say,
Might just result in some Very Unpleasant Behaviour.
Let’s hope for your sake, this fantasy never comes true.
Because, there’s one thing of which I am completely certain:
I would glorify in being the end of you.

Hera

Oblivious to her Hera like stare,
Of rolling eyes you weren’t aware.
Why would you see? Why would you care?
You don’t know I’m trapped in your snare.
Like acid dripping from the tongue,
She assumed that the day was done,
And in my mouth she placed a gun,
For in the end, I was but one.
So you just walk away from me,
I’ll retain not one memory
Of how we were, and how you’ll be –
She must be all you want really.

 

Grainne

She remembers her home before it was ever a house. Cold, dank, little more than a bleak, windowless shack overlooking the coast from uneven ground. She remembers that ground trembling beneath her feet, a charge refuelling her veins as the sky crackled with blistering heat overhead. But more than anything, Grainne remembers the whispering. The mistrustful looks, the way small children were grabbed by the arm and led away from her, the lingering whisper on the air the wishes for her demise. Lon...

Silent Retreat

It’s not that I’m giving up.
But when you change the goalposts
And have nothing left to say anymore,
The thought that I have most
Is resignation.
I’ve predicted that this day would come,
Like I’m a self-inflicting almanac
That foresaw one day, you’d be done.
I guess I kind of hoped
This meant more than silent retreat,
But it’s okay. I accept it wasn’t. That I’m not.
I won’t force what isn’t there to defeat.
I have grown cold with acceptance that
There’s no longer any interest here for you.
So...

Blemish

I want to lose myself in you.
Pretend that the world is a kinder place.
Feel your skin beneath my fingers and your breath upon my face.
Close my eyes momentarily, and make believe
That I know your every curve and crease,
Every blemish of imperfection.
Every single doubt would cease.
To submit to your touch
Would be more than enough
To soothe, and ease this hurt from my mind.
No other could I ever find
Quite like you.

Exact

In a perfect universe, we would all have the courage to say the exact words we needed to say to the people that needed to hear them at exactly the right moment. There would be no doubts, and no misunderstandings, and everything would go precisely and exactly to plan. 

The universe is not like that. 

Words never come out right, getting jumbled up in the maze that is our insecurities and overactive imaginations. Feelings are never easily revealed, instead repressed safe inside our chests, for f...

Dust

Hope is that thing that lays dormant like a seed throughout winter
And, when feeling the warmth of the sun from above,
And the moisture in its roots
And the nutrients in its soil,
Tentatively begins to grow, expand, unfurl,
Pushing its way through organic matter towards the nourishing sunlight above.
As if this weren’t miracle enough,
The roots, shoots, and chloroplasts perform their duties,
And slowly, slowly, it unfurls
Into a beautiful flower, fanning its petals out
And turning its face to...