Us #amwriting

PHOTO PROMPT© CEAyr

Thank you as always to Rochelle for hosting Friday Fictioneers. If you’d like to join, please click here to read the instructions and add your contribution.

And, I hate to add this qualification, but I’m on vacation and while I will try to read everyone’s contribution, I apologize if it’s not in a timely manner.


 Us

You and me. Us.

Are there any stronger words? Two against all! You and me forever!

We huddled in that slight crevice, time and time again. You despised going home, especially on Fridays when your Dad’s paycheck bought liters of cheap gin and an ugly anger that marked bruises on your pretty face.

And me, my home was a sarcophagus, cold, where my parents stole to their own caves, not acknowledging me or each other.

You and me, us, holding hands, reprieve.

Us lasted a long time.

Until time threaded its skeletal fingers around your wrist stealing you away.

end 8/12/2017

Sascha Darlington

 

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Let’s Have Coffee (or Tea)! #amwriting #weekendcoffeeshare

 

 

 

Pull up a chair, have a cup of coffee, or tea. I’m having PG Tips right now and will be examining my caffeine intake. More on the reasons for that below. Continue reading

Carry On

 

You would never have guessed that I would be the one carrying your banner long after you’d gone. But I’ve always been the one to feel too much and wish too much and dream too much and miss people long after, when others have moved on their faces directed forward. I never knew your dreams, but maybe they’ll interweave with mine and carry on just the same. There will be peace when we’re done.

end 4/21/2017

S. Darlington

Gone #NaPoWriMo #amwriting

Gone

I dreamed of you planning for next year, a dream of chaos and darkness, but you stood firm, your dark eyes laughed, your voice kindled with throaty joy, but when my eyes opened you were still gone and my thoughts circled: if only.

end 4/20/2017

S. Darlington

A Year

A year ago today

she wrote

hope you are having a really good birthday

hope you are well

lots of love

 

today

I wish she were here

I wish I had known

that people will not always be

that all of the seconds accumulate into minutes and hours and days and years

and that sometimes

they decide to shorten

the moments.

 

I wish I had known

a year ago

that lots of love

would be

the last thing

I heard from her

 

I wish I had known

we can’t hold onto

ones who wish not to stay

 

I wish I had known

words hidden in words

and could decipher meanings

between lines of the simplest echoes

and that wanting and holding

cannot make one stay

end 3/9/2017

S. Darlington

 

It’s not in this world, it’s in the parallel universe, where people are good and say things they mean and are not mean, where you are, wonderful and happy, sipping your rum and coke and your laughter throbs for the ages and you are happy. Beautiful down to your toes, and it is your laughter, your hearty sexy laugh that lives.

Much love always.


 

afraid you will be nothing

In this wordless sorrow

I cling to scorching memories

You hurt me, intentionally, unintentionally

You were a substance unknown

I retracted like a stilted flower

You loved, I think

I loved, I know

You hid in liquid substance

Me too, but only sometimes

Convenient, to numb

You threw out anger

You maimed

The next day you apologized

But it remained

A few years passed

Bitterness persisted

What do we do now

What do we do

I listen in the calling of the wind

For answers to something you sought

Afraid that you will be nothing

Even passed

If someone doesn’t hear.

 

end 1/21/2017

S. Darlington

Infinity

stars

This world feels emptier without you. The echoing years, walking through time, without your raucous laugh, your sarcastic wit, your rich laughing brown eyes. All of forever days without you. When you planned, did you understand the hole you’d leave?

1/11/2017

S. Darlington

Moon River (I)

I sat on the deck

Watching afternoon merge with evening

Looking at my tablet

Listening to Pandora

Reading a book

Checking facebook

Trying not to be eaten by mosquitoes

I’d put two citronella candles out.

I looked up suddenly

The moon was a whisper

A curved wisp

Golden against slate.

I thought of you.

Earlier your picture popped up on facebook

Your twinkling eyes, challenging, giggling

Your lips curved, so ready to laugh.

I thought: what you’re missing.

They tell me that it was four times, maybe five

Does the last one count?

I didn’t know.

I guess I thought you were like me

A survivor through all life could offer.

I don’t know how our lives compared and does it matter?

The last time I saw you, I was different, you were different,

I thought, at last: sisters.

Your world spun out of control

If you weren’t so far away.

But, maybe you’d have admonished me

You had before, a drunken bitching

I shrugged it off

I shrug lots of things off until I can’t anymore.

You apologized the next day.

It meant the world.

All I ever wanted was for us to be friends, sisters.

We could giggle together.

But in a hot bath with tablets you evaporated.

 

end 8/5/2016

S. Darlington

No Answers

I wake to the nightmare

of your leaving.

Death’s reality an insistent hammer

on the nail head, bang, bang, banging.

You drowned

hot bath, pills.

Who’s to blame?

 

What were you thinking,

if, you were thinking

or if feeling

feeling so miserable over events

you went over? Brussels.

Overwhelming nightmare of innocent

lives lost again and again.

 

I try to understand, comprehend, empathize,

but I cannot, not comprehensively

simplistically, always

grateful for tomorrow.

 

end 7/15/2016

S. Darlington

Dualism

Water:

sustains,

removes,

quenches,

drowns.

The first boy I loved dove into it

From a Boston bridge to embody a poem

written too young

an idealist, Van Gogh-obsessed

Wednesday before Thanksgiving.

Moons ago, organizer of ocean tides.

And you, sister, new friend of too many years

sank beneath its surface to escape

pain you’d tried to escape many, many times before

leaving pain in those who tried to keep you afloat, and

those who didn’t know you were no longer reaching out

or skimming the surface or treading, but sinking

fervent fingertips out of reach.

 

end 6/28/2016

©S. Darlington