Fears To Be

Waves rock me slowly to sleep
As the skies begin to weep
Their mist of tears caress my cheek
For the condolences they wish to seek

Wearily I rest my head
Upon the coarse floorboards of my bed
I shut my eyes and try to bait
The sleep I anxiously await

But there is no slumber
When stranded at sea
There is only a number
Of fears to be



Glazed and slick
The rain laid thick
A misty haze
Her blank gaze

Lights and blood
A flash and a flood
Crash and burn
We’ll never learn

Stop and stare
They don’t care
Our last fight
Then put out the light

Photo Fragments


On the oak end table, next to the big, plush, leather couch in this living room, there was a photo frame. Inside the frame was a picture of a man, in beige camouflage with a huge black dog. This man was my dad, but I would have never known. He was stationed in Afghanistan before I was four years old, and he never came back. I was never told why; there was no one to tell me. This man was just a fragment. Fragments of a dad I never knew. Fragments of a mom who never cared about me. Fragments of a stepfather who beat me incessantly. Fragments of a sister who had leukemia and died at twelve. Fragments of a brother addicted to heroin and apathy. Everything was a fragment, smashed to pieces, and it all got taped together to make me.

I was broken.


“Photo Fragments” is my submission the 57th FFfAW Challenge (Check it out here). It is composed of 143 words.

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