Photo Challenge: Fiction – Hung Out to Dry #photochallenge #fiction #MLMM


Thanks to NEKNEERAJ of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting the Photo Challenge Prompt. This is a piece from my writing class, as well.


Credit: Bleach Film


“I tried, but I don’t love you. I hate hurting you. I’m sorry I cheated.”

“Are you? How do you switch your emotions off like that? Like a light-switch?” Jen’s voice was shrill.

Michael met her eyes but refused to answer. She stumbled into the living-room deaf to his begging. The back door slammed and his admissions ravaged her heart. These new wounds bled, sucking the life from her body. He’d hung her out to dry.

Dizziness overcame her and Jen lay on the couch, head buried in a pillow. She tried to absorb her ex-fiancés words, but her stomach was queasy and a strange ache grew inside her. It clenched and tightened, a fist squeezing her heart. Michael’s insidious behavior, shocked her. Her thoughts circled and her conscience hammered until she couldn’t stop them from revealing missed clues.

Jen was overcome with a sense of hollowness. Tears stung, traveling down the plains of her face as she peered into the fireplace mirror eyes flared-red, swollen with flat-gray irises; she felt emotionless and weary. There would be no more sunrises in life, not now, not ever.

Her heart ached, and the tangible throbbing pulsed and amplified until she couldn’t hide. Sobs wracked Jen’s body. She shivered, even when she pulled over a thick throw. Michael’s festering splinter of betrayal infected her heart and savaged her; nothing could ease Jen’s suffering.


©Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.

Sunday Photo Fiction: Cracking Into Place #amwriting #flashfiction


Thanks to Alistair Forbes for hosting SPF.


Credit: Dawn Miller


Danny’s back pulsed and ached. Pain like fire raced through his lower back and centered in his shoulder blades and neck. He had spent the day hauling wood chips for his cabin.

Strolling inside, he sorted through the mail, rolling his shoulders and stretching his back, praying the sharp pains would cease.

Anne peered up from the kitchen stove. “You have all the wood chips hauled into the shed?”

“Yeah, we’re set until summer. I pulled some muscles, though.”

“Hmmm, did you stretch before?”

“It’ll be fine after a hot shower.”

Anne rolled her eyes. “I hope so. You always make fun of my yoga, but it gives me flexibility and stretches my soar muscles. You should try a short video tonight.”

She flipped through the saved videos on the Youtube app on her phone, pausing at ‘Yoga for Back Pain.’ She handed Danny her phone. “Do this video and you’ll feel much better.”

“It’s fine, really.” He kissed Anne’s cheek, setting down her phone.

The next morning Danny attempted to get up, but he couldn’t raise himself into a sitting position, not even a reclined one. Whenever he tried, fiery pain shot through his entire back and shoulders.

Anne gazed at him half-awake, before sitting up. She guided his arms, upper back, and shoulders in ‘yogesque’ movements. The burning pain lessened with a few clicks and snaps as she stretched out his torso.

When his lower back cracked into place, Danny moaned. He sat up, than stood with ease.

Splaying out on her side of the bed, Anne closed her eyes. “Now that your back is good, you can make us both breakfast. I deserve breakfast in bed.”


©Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.

Published Poem – Spillwords.com – Free Verse “Don’t Burn Out All the Lights” #amwriting #poetry #spillwords


I am pleased to have another poem published on http://www.spillwords.com. Check them out, they are amazing to collaborate with. Here’s the poem: “Don’t Burn Out All the Lights.”


Credit: Spillwords.com


©️Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved

#NovemberNotes Day 18/Saturday Mix: Poem – Italian Sonnet – “No Need to Flee” #poetry #dVerse #Saturdamix


Or November Notes Day 18 the song Prompt is “Possession” by Sarah McLachlan. I’m also combining the Prompt with Lillian from #dVerse Poet’s Pub Prompt using the word or theme of groove and Sarah from MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie Saturday Mix Prompt on opposing forces. For this week the opposing words are exit and entrance, and major and minor.


Credit: Toa Heftiba via Unsplash


“Possession” by Sarah McLachlan


Just close your eyes, my dear, I’ll wipe away —

Your glittering tears so you can see clear.

We’ve wonderful memories without fear,

I’ll steal the breath from your lungs, hide your pain.

I’ll be the one who’s there forever explaining.

The world is soft as moonlight’s groove reveals,

Night’s solitude soundless with intense dreams,

The truth discovered, blackness alights shame.

You’re not trapped, I won’t ever hold you down,

Stop fearing what could be live here with me.

In precious days without terrors crown,

I’ll wipe away your tears without a word,

I’ll be the one to hold you and to kiss you hard,

For I can calm your darkness, no need to flee.


©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

#OctPoWriMo 28/Sunday Writing Prompts: Poem – Bop – “What Release’s Pain” #amwriting #poetry


For OctPoWriMo 28 I can’t get onto the website at the moment. Perhaps it’s because I am so far behind? Instead, I’ll just be using the Sunday Writing Prompt of Scribblers Dip of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie based on fake band names including: Squirrel Nut Zippers, GoGo Penguins, Abstract Evil Barbie, Bimbo Toolshed, The Pineapples from the Dawn of Time, Reign of Frogs, Devil with Cheese, Stop Calling Me Frank, Loudmouth kitten, and Kissyfoot. 

Credit: Yvette de Wit via Unsplash

When I met him, there was no telling of taste, 

In horrible music he thought was just great. 

I went with him to GoGoPenguin’s shows, 

Cringing as he sang to Hard Metal prose.  

Lyrics made my insides squirm hearing hate, 

He sang with angry fervor berating

There’s never any accounting for taste. 

At Abstract Evil Barbie I questioned, 

How ‘Barbie’ was perverse, lyrics lessened —

Her value as a child’s toy, words fearful — 

Of hurt and frustration sounding eerie

He loved each band, Bimbo Toolshed’s screaming, 

Destroying the whole world in pain keening. 

Beneath his clever smile he revealed his —

Desire to get back at life with derision

There’s never any accounting for taste. 

Reign of the Frogs made me shiver as they sang, 

Maliciously damning all those they harangued

I asked him why we couldn’t listen to words —

That were softer, happier, encouraging. 

But to him, Stop Calling Me Frank’s words curt

Released the devil inside him stopped his hurt. 

There’s never any accounting for taste. 

—-

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 



#OctPoWriMo – Day 10/ Sunday Writing Prompt: Free Verse – “Equisite Possibilities” #amwriting #poetry 


OctPoWriMo Day 10 has a theme Prompt about control and power in a positive sense, more like empowerment. I’m combining this prompt with the Sunday Writing Prompt of September 24, 2017 by Scribblersdip of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie

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Credit: Scribblersdip MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie

——

It’s wonderment, 

This feeling, racing through, 

My veins, 

Blood pulsing back to limbs;

An exquisite kind of power, 

Empowerment

With pain. 

I’m all the better —

For it; 

Fighting, struggling,

Achieving aspirations

We soon recognize, 

Key differences, 

Between fantasy,

And reality. 

Which dreams are reasonable, 

Or will never be;

We can find strength, 

When failing;

Learning always occurs. 

What hurts the most,

Makes us humble, 

And those who stumble, 

In clouds need —

Realize their talents.

For we can succeed,

Beyond the pain,

Discovering our capabilities

A feeling that’s exquisite

Addictive endorphins; 

In knowing your rare talents. 

To change your life, 

In a moment’s 

glimmer; 

Tracing the lines, 

Destiny’s gifted. 
——

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

#OctPoWriMo – Day 7/Tale Weavers: Poem – Blitz – “Still So Unreal” #amwriting #taleweavers #poetry 


Today’s OctPoWriMo theme is going to far or crossing the line. I’m combining this prompt with  Michael of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie Taleweavers prompt on rejection. 

——


——

Unnumb the pain, make me feel

Unnumb the pain it’s so unreal

Unreal enough that it’s too real

Unreal enough that hurts all the more

More was hurtful, you crossing lines

More was insidious and harmful 

Harmful, you were supposed to protect

Harmful because my wounds are jagged 

Jagged life, you’ve blessed me with 

Jagged life, do you know how I feel? 

Feel, do you feel at all? Have empathy? 

Feel, is your body as numb as mine? 

Mine is aching and empty

Mine has a hole in my stomach

Stomaching your betrayal

Stomaching your cruelty 

Cruelty that lingers and nips

Cruelty that cannot be blocked out

Out of my mind, my body 

Out of my heart, my soul 

Soulless, why’d you have to be this way? 

Soulless, saw your vacant eyes and knew all along 

Along, I go away from you, 

Along I go with opportunities 

Opportunities to thrive and learn

Opportunities to be a better person 

Person who loves

Person who forgets

Forgets your terrible denial, rejection

Forgets that I crossed the line 

Lines demarcated that said don’t ask for more, 

Line demarcated that brought up your walls

Walls, fortified structures 

Walls, yours, aren’t my fault

Fault lies with us both

Faults, we’re all of of us flawed 

Flawed as together we had too many 

Flawed as the night without stars

Stars as your eyes that drew me in 

Stars going off with your velvet touch

Touch, the experience not forgotten

Touch, yours is but a memory

Memory, nostalgia not reality 

Memory of the best times and the worst

Worst memories at the end

Worst memories haunt me still

Still I’ve moved on and I’m happy

Still I’ve found a way to love life

Life has no garuntees, but I’m okay 

Happy, today, that word describes me well

—–

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

#OctPoWriMo – Day 2 – Poem: Free Verse – “Of Terror & The Dying” #amwriting #poetry #yegstrong #vegasshooting 


Welcome to OctPoWrMo Day 2 . I’ll be going back to Day 1. But today’s prompt was writing what we must. And this is what resulted, sorry to begin with the topic isn’t light. 

It’s inspired by two events the Las Vegas Shooting and terrorist events in Alberta, Canada. 

——–

Credit: Ian Dooley via Unsplash
——–
I wish you wouldn’t kill, 

I wish you wouldn’t shoot. 

I wish you didn’t feel the need, 

To take others with you to the grave. 

I wish you knew your pain, 

Was a problem that could’ve been helped, 

If wish you had only asked. 

I wish you weren’t indoctrinated

That morals halted your, 

Urge to kill and wound hundreds. 

*****
I wish you wouldn’t kill, 

I wish you wouldn’t shoot, 

I wish that you’d stopped yourself. 

Thought of the consequences, 

I wish you’d had empathy. 

Realized everyone feels pain as you did, 

That all people have things in their life, 

That wound and maim them, 

Throughout life’s winding road; 

We all feel internal pain, brokenness sometimes. 

But others chose better coping methods, 

Not to go about their wicked way, 

Taking global humanity to their knees. 

*****
I wish you didn’t kill, 

I wish you didn’t shoot. 

I wish you didn’t choose chaos, 

That you chose understanding —

Not violence. 

I wish you knew all the family’s hurting, 

How your pain became more than your victims, 

More than the wounded and the dead. 

I wish you knew how you maimed everyone —

On scene, through the online world. 

How guns are so destructive, 

When they’re attained so easily to murder. 

That blood flows, when gunshot wounds, 

Cause suffering. 

That men and women are lying dead, 

Having lost their lives too early. 

*****
I wish you wouldn’t kill, 

I wish you wouldn’t shoot, 

Because other people will emulate you. 

They will think your selfish choice, 

Is the right path for them too. 

I hate that you had to take, 

So many others with you. 

That you didn’t comprehend, 

The sanctity of life. 

It’s ever so valuable, beyond twisted beliefs, 

Your inner turmoil — whatever it was, 

More than the false reasons, 

You believed gave your actions merit.  

*****
I wish you wouldn’t kill, 

I wish you would shoot, 

I wish a place of celebration, 

A place of respite and vacation, 

Did not become a mass murdering location; 

But it did, all because of you. 

I hate that you can’t hear, 

The moans of the people you hurt. 

That you can’t look them in the eye, 

And see the their tears, their horror. 

I hate that you don’t see, 

Children who’ve lost parents. 

I hate that you did not realize, 

Your actions harmed and injured many. 

It makes me sick that you were okay, 

With this awful outcome, 

Of being a grim reaper. 

I hate that you probably, 

Wouldn’t have cared, 

Even if your cowardly death, 

Hadn’t worked. 

*****
I wish you wouldn’t kill,

I wish you wouldn’t shoot. 

That the pandemonium and suffering, 

Your victims felt and discovered, 

Is something you didn’t experience on earth. 

I’m so angry that men like you, 

Choose weapons too available, to harm others. 

I’m so angry you ruined so many lives, 

I’m so angry you made a place, 

That once felt safe, 

Into a terrifying war zone. 

I’m so angry that the country, 

You caused your mayhem in, 

Has far too many gun related deaths. 

And I don’t know how to stop men like you, 

How a right to bear arms, 

Oversteps someone else’s right to live,

I can’t comprehend; 

But I heard the screams, the peppering of bullets, 

And it makes me want to cry. 

So upset you were okay with, 

The consequences of a heartless choice. 

That your inner demons, 

Got the best of you, 

In such a malevolent way.  

*****
I wish you wouldn’t kill, 

I wish you wouldn’t stab. 

I watched a terrorist ram a policemen’s car, 

Saw the policeman soar into the air, 

But he hadn’t any wings, 

For he was merely human. 

I watched you stab him too many times, 

And he was only doing his job. 

While another mad man, 

Ran down others. 

Tried to hurt them too.

And I wish you wouldn’t slice, 

Let blood trickle and flow. 

I wish you wouldn’t use a truck, 

As a weapon to injure, cause pain. 

But I cannot see into your mind, 

And I don’t know that anyone, 

Could have changed all your minds.

All I know is you all didn’t listen, 

To the conscience inside your head. 

All I know is your method of damage, 

Was a choice to do evil. 

*****

I wish you wouldn’t kill, 

I wish you wouldn’t shoot, 

That you’d dealt with your own turmoil, 

In a vastly improved method. 

I know that many people think, 

All people are generally good. 

But few realize being a good is a choice;

We’re not made that way, 

We learn to be good people. 

And too many choose to twist what’s good. 

And commit acts that are selfish and evil.

To many acts of terror, 

By lone men or terrorists. 

Too many opportunities, 

With access to weapons, 

Knives and guns, 

Defend your family as you must, 

But make it harder, 

So random men can’t do their evil,

Wound hundreds with bullets, 

In blood drenched mass murder. 

I wish you wouldn’t choose to kill, 

So we don’t hear the screams, the suffering, the dying, 

So the images don’t haunt us. 

Because it’s sickening that ever day people, 

Who appear like me you and me, 

Have a monster residing within them, 

Have made the choice to murder.

*****
I wish they wouldn’t kill, 

I wish they wouldn’t shoot, 

But I can’t see what was inside their minds. 

Because they looked like everyone else, 

Not a demon, a Lord Voldemort, or a Freddy Kruger. 

All I can send is my prayers to the broken, 

Those mourning and terrified. 

All I know is that some people choose, 

To be good people, 

And I have faith in God and them. 

All I know is that in the end, 

God will give every person justice, 

Justice that is eternal and right. 

And that someday on earth, 

We must learn to forgive

Not to become monsters, 

So we don’t commit terrifying evil too. 

*****

——

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved 

Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer: Poem – “It’s a Fact of Life” #amwriting #poetry #flashfiction 


Thanks to Priceless Joy for hosting FFftAW September 5, 2017. 

Excuse the length. I saw the photograph and it fit my poem well. Since I’m still two weeks behind I don’t know that it matters 🙂 

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Credit: Artycaptures.wordpress.com

——-

When I visit here, 

It’s a fact of life. 

Blood drawn with tiny needles.

Some days they sting, 

Stringing out two seconds. 

Other days, the needle doesn’t register. 

It was a fact of life,

I had to visit here each week,

For the first six months. 

Then, every other week, 

Now each month the rest of my life. 

It’s a fact of life, 

So I don’t pay much attention. 

Facing away when the needle grazes, 

The same ‘good’ vein. 

Blueish-purple in my left arm, 

Silver-violet threads of blood vessels. 

Some months these needles bruise, 

Leave my skin raw and red; 

But If I’ve someone skilled,

There’s a slight indentation. 

Each month —

Babies crying concertos. 

An ominous feeling in the air. 

They’ve no choice —

But to know sharp pain. 

A poke stinging eternities of fire, 

For a wink in time. 

Wailing and —

The waiting room patients’ sigh. 

Then silence follows, 

The miniature massacre. 

Everyone checking, rechecking watches, 

Pulling out phones. 

Waiting for that sickening needle, 

Shuffling in seats,

Legs crossed and uncrossed. 

Glossy magazine pages turned, 

With frequent frustration. 

Toddlers running,

Mothers trying to calm them, 

Hushing their lively squeaks. 

I’m used to having blood drawn, 
Turning my head, 

Focusing on some object, 

Or a distant thought. 

There’s persistent pain as the needle pulls, 
My blood into the tube. 

Six to nine tubes today, 

Blood annexed for annual work. 

These tests burn —

Worse than the tattoo artist’s etching. 

Sketching out the black lines, 

Worse than her needle, 

Grazing repeatedly, 

Skin with vibrant colours. 

Back and forth movements, 
Calming and hushing,

Knowing what to expect and where. 

Conversation, music soothing, 

Then, the artist is done. 

Her needles leaving, 

A work of art behind. 

But the blood test needles ache worse. 

Similar to the last flu shot,

Some years not felt at all.

Other years a poke that —

Throbs all day. 

Despite praying the pharmacist,

Will slide the needle in,

Not deliver a death blow. 

Droplets of bright blood plop, 

To the stark white floor. 

She laughs, this never happens. 

Her mouth turns downward, 

Because you grimace, 

Squish your eyes shut counting the seconds;

Until the hurt dulls. 

She wonders why you wince, 

Why you’re so sensitive.

Says the swelling will fade, 

You’ll live, 

It’s a fact of life. 

It’s a matter of proper training, 

Slipping any needle in gently. 

Not jabbing and mincing, 

A persons veins or muscles. 

Yet still, a fact of life. 
But I remember being six and crying,

Fighting my mother, 

She was angry. 

Because I saw the needle, 

And refused. 

Today, the blood test needles are thinner. 

Adults can ignore them, right

Grit their teeth while the bloods, 

Ripped away, into a tube. 

It’s a fact of life. 

That some things are sharper and dig holes deeper, 

Than blood tests, flu shots, or tattoos. 

There is greater pain flowing from our insides,

If only the hurt could be drawn out as blood. 

If happiness, no worries, and no obligations —

Was all that remained behind. 

If only —

The tattoo artists colours, 

Garunteed you with fantastic health. 

And flu shots didn’t speak of fragility; 

Only the best humors in our blood. 

Gossamer strings supporting dreams. 

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

 

Three Line Tales: A Thousand Was Not Enough #fiction #amwriting #3LineTales


Thanks to Sonya of Only 100 Words for hosting #3LineTales. 

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Credit: Dev Benjamin via Unsplash

———-

Scattered in vivacious colors, a thousand was not enough, but would’ve a thousand paper cranes healed you, done anything? I guess they weren’t for you, they were for me, to keep my hands busy as your eyes glassed over and the pain meds kicked in; they stopped me from crying out from asking, why you didn’t even try to heal, for you, for me. I leaned over your bedside the paper cranes around us and you gave me a half grin with your dimpled cheek, somehow there when all other reserves of flesh were gone; then you were gone before I could  memorize your last smile. 

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.