You held a hammer in your hand
turning your knuckles white-
ghaslty,
a tight grip around it,
a ghost relentlessly making you do it
again
and again.
Suddenly your grip loosens
as you gasp for air, drinking your surroundings in-
blood splattered all around
there laid her heart, which you had kept pounding again and again, l
ike a time loop,
every mistake, every pain
was another powerful hit
and then there laid your hand-
the one that held her heart,
feeling every single blow on her heart-
for hurting her was hurting your own self.
Whose blood was it?
Who was in more pain?
~ f.k (22:04)
YOU ARE READING
The Fabled Flamingo
Short Story"It's not my words that you should fear, but my silence. My words speak straight to the core but my absence will leave you speechless." ― Nikki Rowe _________________ Sometimes, when it's brittle and cold outside and our insides are craving warmth...
