M.K. Lee's Blog: Telling Tales, page 60

Torture

Words are an essential weapon of choice
In an arsenal of torture devised to inflict harm,
With a strength that lies in giving self disbelief voice,
Either stabbing like daggers or soothing like balm.

Because you can’t be sure which way they are going,
You adopt a stance of always on alert.
The damage can be done with no single scar showing,
Only knowing someone reveals the depth of their hurt.

Perhaps words are deserved, invited by deceit
Or poor choices made in the quiet of night.
You cannot ...

Letting Go to Start Over – Chapter 2

“Mornin’, Alan.”

Alan waves at his neighbor Wendy going in the opposite direction but doesn’t answer, concentrating instead on the final stretch of his ten-mile run. His limbs burn with the good kind of stretch of exertion, his head is clear, and the air is fresh as he sucks it into his lungs. He spares a glance for the pond to the side of the path he’s taking through the park, smiling as a fish breaks the surface for a moment, but otherwise notices nothing else.

Satisfaction seeps int...

Diary Drabble: Update

© M K Lee

Pedestal

That pedestal I’ve placed you on,
It’s no longer stable.
Propped up on foundations of friendship
That are now crumbling with fable.
Fable, because all of those words
That used to be our core
Of solidarity and care
Mean nothing anymore.
So as sands shift around you
And my company you lack,
You’ll not notice. There will only ever be me
Pining and looking back.

© M K Lee

Letting Go to Start Over – Chapter 1

Hello, here’s the first of a three chapter story.

Alan needs a start-over. A new job, in an unknown place, far away from an unrequited love that he needs to get over if he’s ever going to live his own life.

The freshness of the breeze, the crunch of dirt beneath his feet, the horizon dotted with a hundred twinkling lights; this is Alan’s home now. And though he does not have a particular base yet, has accepted a job offer without thinking of anything but starting over, being able t...

Diary Drabble: Uniform

© M K Lee

Round

Push. Pull. On. Off. Up. Down. Round. Round.
Hot. Cold. Stay. Go. Want. No. Round. Round.
To. Fro. Yes. No. Like. Loath. Round. Round.
These are the voices in my head.
Whispers of you that leave me dead.
How can this be real after all we said?
And round…round…round…
Miss me, don’t. Leave me, won’t. Show it, no. Round. Round.
Friends. More. Same as before. Nothing anymore. Round. Round.
Thoughts. Words. Chorus. Verse. Better. Worse. Round. Round.
These are the voices in my head.
Whispers of you that lea...

At The Bus Station

It’s been exactly eight days, seven hours, and thirteen minutes since Damien saw Elias last, and as he cranes his neck to look for his bus pulling in to the station, Damien is convinced he can feel the seconds ticking by adding extra tension to his stomach.

Not that he’s been counting all that time passing, of course, nor spent hours mournfully staring up at the ceiling of his room unable to concentrate on anything but the fact that Elias isn’t with him. And it’s not even that long really...

Daily Drivel – Memory

Cold, dark stone reveals
Memories long forgotten
As carved eyes observe

Night Embrace

Meet me in the alley by the park gate.
Come after nightfall so no one can see.
My heart pounds a symphony as I wait
For you in the shadows to sing to me.

Meeting in secret adds mystique to ‘this’,
Our soundtrack played out on your old guitar.
My days filled thinking only of your kiss,
While night songs make me forget who you are.

To cross the line into something more whole,
To be by your side, see sun on your face,
Is something of daydreams beyond control.
I have but your lyrics and night embra...