Snow globe full of lies

I took the bandage off today. I would really like to heal.
The scab between my breasts is bright hot angry red.
I gently scrub with soap and the scab slowly peels
showing the crater in my chest. I am the walking dead.
The small child wants so badly to believe your word is true.
You say you’ll be her friend forever no matter what.
My devil laughs, a cynic. My angel turns away from you.
When you walk away you drag behind each inch of my child’s gut.
I see the wound is pulsing and now I give a start.
You break your word, you lie, to my much abused small child.
The pulsing mass I see is my aching bleeding heart.
Every injury triples on the child you hold inside.
I don’t stop loving even though I am gravely hurt.
You’ve never loved at all: you grind hearts into the dirt.

____________________

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: snow globe.

A world built of lies, like a snow globe. Detached from reality. Contained, with music, and you can shake it up. It looks so pretty, but it isn’t real.

The weight of water

Sometimes water looks light and flighty in photographs, but here is Crocker Lake, with the water looking thick and deep. A mirror, inviolate. A surface that we can almost believe we can step on. Water IS heavy.

_________________________

The weight of water

You don’t realize the weight of water

I say I am a sea, deep, the emotions on the surface only
you dismiss me, female, lesser, emotional, unimportant
except for your uses. I should be receptive, listen, not speak.
You have no interest in my life, except when you want
my services.

You don’t believe me until the day
you look down and fall. The waters close
over your head. The weights you’ve tied
around your ankles carry you down down.
Welcome to the depths.

Welcome to the weight of water.

___________________________

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: thick.

Don’t come back

I wish you weren’t coming back. Ever.
I don’t want to see you here again.
I drive down to the beach thinking never.
If your car was there, I would park you in.
That makes me laugh out loud at how absurd
my stupid heart is longing all the time.
Hurt and vengeful, all those words
for a heart in tears. You won’t change your mind.
My pessimistic side growls I don’t care.
And thinks up gruesome ends for you.
It’s sad that you’ll be torn up by a bear
or eaten by Sasquatch in a stew.
Just think, at last you’ve managed to be free
From one thing always. It happens to be me.

Sonnet 13

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: pessimist.

Rules

On each new site we read the rules anew.
Check that we are not a bot and real.
Check that we will not link to porn or views
traumatic, that we promise not to steal
others work or game or avatar. Why is it
that in each site of any and every ilk,
someone has to watch and delete the bit
where the rules are broken, spilling milk.
The truth is we’ve learned how to behave
or rebel in neglected or violent homes.
I wonder if humans should be saved
when again the trolls must be stoned.
We think that humans should dwell on Mars.
We’ll need rules and moderators in the stars.

Sonnet 12