A Convenient Marriage – Lois E. Linkins

Blogs we love: Sudden Denouement Literary Collective featuring Lois E. Linkens

A Global Divergent Literary Collective

we sleep in separate beds,
to clear our clouded heads.
we keep our secrets wrapped
in gaudy signatures and glasses cracked
over organ flourishes.
we have rooms upon rooms,
some shortage of love
made up in statement wallpaper and bespoke furniture.

the sweeping staircase
holds centre place,
a marble decoy
feels as cold as the flesh
behind the welcome and the wine;
we keep our hands apart,
modern art
stands for wedding photos developed unseen,
money sadly spent
on a white pretence
that fill so many baby dreams;
tradition screams.

mais oui,
it seems that playground jests
have found their poorest manifest
in our little life of theatre.

mama, he thinks our homespun play
is swallowed like tequila,
he believes the empty nursery unnoticed,
sitting in his claw-foot bathtub
with a beard of bubbles,
oblivious to the pool of mockery
in which he is submerged;
mama, it would not take…

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Morning Routine 4 a Fibro Warrior

Blogs We Love: Fibro Awareness Project

Fibro Awareness Project

The pain wakes before my eyes do
Not that I was sleeping, my body doesn’t remember what its like to sleep through night.
Forcing myself out of bed, feet on the warm floor as I stretch my neck in all directions,
Needles accompanying every movement.

A shockwave of electricity captivates my shins and
I break, falling back onto the mattress, resting before trying again.

While in the shower, tears grip at my eyes.
The water feels like daggers on my skin,
The temperature burning or freezing, never reaching a level of comfort.

Racing through the pain and finding relief in a plush robe, I collapse onto bed with
Wet hair soaking the pillows.

With deep breaths and a focused mind,
I brave the vanity once again.
Continuously being shocked with pain while standing at the mirror,
I scream in agony in my empty apartment, the sounds vibrating against the walls.

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I might not always be there

Blogs We Love: Private Bad Things/Georgia Park

I am a poet! I am. I am. I am a poet, I reaffirmed, ashamed.

You’ve watched me tear through men

Like so many tornadoes

You know I hate them 

You’ve stayed home with me

You know I don’t sleep

You’ve heard me screaming

I’m not always well

But you aren’t either,

Let my dysfunction

Lay its head against 

The shoulder of yours

Let them sleep together

While you and i run away from them

If only for an hour

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Blood Into Ink Introduces Some of Our Favorite Blogs

The Blood Into Ink Curators thought we'd try something a little different this weekend and introduce you to some of the sites we love to read.  Although the focus of these sites might not be primarily trauma and survival, their writers are warriors and they frequently write about these themes.  We hope you enjoy reading …

Anniversary Aggravation

dispassionately she observes the uptick in hypervigilance she startles these days significantly more often than her norm jumping out of her skin without provocation approach with silent footfalls scaring her silly muffled but unstifled “Oh!” escapes mortified lips hands fluttering, protect jackhammering heart   she can draw the line graph the spike in reactivity distressing …

such a fucking Broken Barbie…

Fingertips permanently stained in blood From all the parts of me that were murdered As a result of me trying to be good…. Look at her… she is so pretty… her skin is so clear… Unlike her life… especially her past…the past she kept hidden.. To keep her loved ones near… it was not as …

The tears I have not shed

Keep fighting, girl. You’re worth it. ❤

Words from a Little Person

For the arms I have not felt 

For the tears I have not shed 

For the loneliness your absence brings 

For the years of torment and pain 

I hope you got what you needed from me 

I hope what you stole was worth it to you

You created a monster that day 

The day you took my innocence away 

The day you pierced the knife in 

But never stuck it all the way through 

The moments I will never forget 

The things I never wanted to see 

You buried them in the ashes of my heart 

So easy to brush away and see 

Everything you did to me 

I hope that someday your heart burns 

I hope that someday you feel the pain

In the meantime

I will keep fighting every day 

In the meantime I will survive despite you 

Because that is the only thing 

That I can do 

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you SELFISH victim….

From day one we are raised to adore and need our moms… to not honor the woman who made you…. Is something like an unwritten crime… How could you not love the woman who gave you life? Even if she allowed a man to take advantage of your innocence… just because she was his wife? …

Nautilus

I travel spiral path bare feet sinking deep into soft sand circles twisting ever tighter as I navigate this nautilus walls curved and translucent smooth to outstretched fingers ceiling growing ever toward me as I descend through chambers of memory become lost in smell of beach plum bayberry salt air call of gulls long stretches …

First Place: Blood Into Ink Writing Prompt Challenge/indelible-Aziza/Rene

The Curators of Blood Into Ink are honored to publish the top five submissions of Brave and Reckless’ recent Blood Into Ink Writing Prompt Challenge. my heart has wound down slow these days like an old wrist watch skips metaphorical measures when i think of that night how i kissed your spittle-flecked lips between compressions …