Unwelcome Daughter/Nightmares

Unwelcome nightmares

Assault rare peace of sleep

Past dragged up from 

Black Lagoon, adding

New details which claw

Gnaw frail fabric of ageing

Soul till shredded hem

Is all that remains to

Grasp in trembling

Fingers… scrap to wrap

Around naked bleeding

Heart, remnant of Self’s

Scattered puzzle pieces…

Too often it’s her face

Floating amid the chaotic

Scenes, her violent voice

Harsher silence torturing

Me for reason mysterious

Never to be solved…

That I am despised is all

I’ll ever know… her first 

Child disgusting, shunned

Displeasing, unwanted

Forever unwelcome

©Rhen Laird/Cobbled Contemplations, 2020 ~ All rights reserved.

https://sammiscribbles.wordpress.com/2020/06/27/weekend-writing-prompt-163-unwelcome/

Unwelcome Thoughts

Like small white balls

Air-blown in cage machine

For bingo games, unwelcome

Unbidden thoughts continually

Burst to surface of conscious

Mind, short-circuiting transitory

Peace, hurtling me off on 

Deadly tormented tangents…

I hurriedly try to race ahead

Of them, make escape, while

At the same time, tugging on

Reins to stop their hell-bent

Gallop toward cliff’s edge…

Surely they are invisible barbed

Demons from spirit world

Beneath earth’s verdure and

Glorious rich depths of sea… they

Are not invited, must I repeat

Destroyer’s stealthy assault minions

Sent specifically to slay me

 ©Rhen Laird/Cobbled Contemplations, 2020 ~ All rights reserved.

https://sammiscribbles.wordpress.com/2020/06/27/weekend-writing-prompt-163-unwelcome/

Two Gulfs (6-Sentence Story)

https://girlieontheedge1.wordpress.com/2020/05/06/its-six-sentence-story-thursday-link-up-106/

Prompt: GULF

It had been decades since Bedelia visited the Gulf, though her soul held the sounds and scent of rippling waves gilded by sunlight.

Each year she ordered a calendar featuring beach scenes, silvered shells and bright coral, to liven up her drab kitchen.

These misted-dawn, seaside thoughts were disrupted by a knock at the door.

Peering through a slender slit in the drapery, she hardly recognized the man with gray hair and mustache…she began to tremble, heart beating rapidly out of sync.

How had he found her, and what did he want…perhaps to seek her forgiveness?

She remained still, breathless as a glass figurine, waiting for him to leave the paltry property she could claim as hers, unmarred—the gulf between her ex-husband and herself was forever-far too wide, turbid, and serpent-swirled to wade across.

©Rhen Laird/Cobbled Contemplations, 2020 ~ All rights reserved.