strike iii

she looked away and let
the words stay hidden
so that they may not be
bitten by the teeth of
her dissatisfaction
but beware to the ones
who push her buttons
for a reaction out of jest –
because she’ll tear down
the best of you and settle
for nothing less

written by Tiny Fawns for daily prompt: reprieve

towers; entitlement

walking along,
you found what you believed
was a door, and gave a strong
swift knock – wondering whether
it could be unlocked at all

but from my side,
it’s just another wall
towering, ancient –
no call was meant
to be sent up and over it –

so when i remain silent
by my own willful choice
don’t you dare hide behind
cowardly entitlement as if
your voice is worth being heard

because up until now,
the air never carried the slightest
trace of any of your words –
whispered, prayed about, thoughts
or lies
therefore, just accept your past
will remain a never-lived dream
until even after you die

lines and cold grins

kindness doesn’t wear a
cold grin or tear at the
corners of another’s
emotions – nor does it
keep a thinly drawn line
inked between what is
labeled as ‘yours’ or ‘mine’ –
kindness never counts
others’ shortcomings as losses
nor crosses them out when
their expectations do not
amount to anything or
any reality it all,
kindness is the ability
to erase the lines and let
warmth shine from one’s
heart when one cannot
find anything or any
sort worth fighting for
within others at all

written by Tiny Fawns for daily prompt: hospitality

vulnerable towers

you observed me with eyes
clear after a storm of thoughts
yet once some words shot
from my lips, i noticed they got
caught in the drift, carried away
by the waves, inward, until
they spilled and stirred up
milky clouds, you lifted them
to the light – sifted them through
your anxieties and frights –
revisiting that cold tower
ugly and loud stones
clatter as you race up
the staircase in your mind
hoping that you find
something in the nothing
of the shadows you feel
ashamed and weak for
hiding behind

written by Tiny Fawns for daily prompt: exposed

made of glass

who knew that a bottle of a
sweetened chemical would be
poison to the throat but
provocative to the touch
of skin, it would be the fragrance i used to
revel in, but now removes my
strength leaving me weak,
heartless, walking unsteadily on
the fine lines of nostalgia as it
catches my fall in the air

written by Tiny Fawns for daily prompt: perfume