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

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Photo Fragments

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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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