Nother one!!

~

The rain falls

Falling hard

Outside in darkness

A smile forms

My lips

A false ray of

Sunshine

In a storm

A torrent

Falling all around.

Some people take

Cover

When it starts to rain

Some people

Cancel plans

When the snow lightly

Lands.

Some of us continue in

Bare feet and

Short sleeves

With a false ray of sunshine

On our lips

Because we’re used

To the constant downfall

Of our life falling

Around us and the

Storms we internalize

Covering with a false

A false ray of sunshine

Across our lips.

Hey, here’s a thing I wrote for the poetry contest, and I wanted to post it here too, since I haven’t posted poetry in forever. I think it might be good? I can never tell. Anyway, here:

This isn't poetry, really, it's a snippet from a story I'm writing but I liked it, thought it was kind of poetic, and remembered I hadn't posted here in a while. So here we are. Sorry, I know this isn't what the thread's for. 

——

Grief is an ugly, messy, broken thing.

It creeps under the lip of her window alongside the breath of cold air that she’s never quite been able to caulk out. It lives among the photos on her mantlepiece, in the Christmas cards she wishes she’d saved. It finds her at her desk, filling out a case report, when a coworker passes by and taps her desk in greeting, flashing her a smile and a whiff of the bergamot tea in her thermos.

She didn’t cry at the funeral. She didn’t cry when she saw the body on the floor of the apartment, still and white-wide-open, as if the world was an egg that God had cracked like a whip-gunshot-skull.

(Is it the job that numbs her, or is she good at the job because she’s numb?)

The silence on the line festers into something worse. She sits there, head in her hands, and watches the tiny white numbers timing the call tick up with every passing second. The living room floor is cold against her bare feet, and she taps a toe against it in time with the rattling of the heater. In the distance, a car alarm wails.