Cupo

Grace Mary Potts

Australia

My life is comprised of inconsistencies, daydreaming, procrastination techniques and occasionally, writing.

Message from Writer

“You wrote down that you were a writer by profession. It sounded to me like the loveliest euphemism I had ever heard. When was writing ever your profession? It's never been anything but your religion." - J.D. Salinger

I would like to say this quote describes me but I'm one of those writers who just procrastinates all the time. More of a "writer" if I'm being honest. To those unfortunate enough to read my work: I very much appreciate any comment you can provide, particularly if it's the constructive kind.

Skies of Speckled Stars

August 18, 2015

PROMPT: Poetry

1
Her back bends and curves, 
Under unseen weight her spine is curled. 
Her head throbs, stomach clenching with nerves, 
It feels like the weight of the world. 

Her arms are heavy like stones, 
Weak and trailing close to the earth. 
The night's cold air seeps into weary bones 
And she wonders what one life is worth.  

And how she's supposed to accept that, 
There's one less person on this Earth.  

Clouds of mist curl from parted lips, 
Cold air stinging eyes blurred by tears. 
Her heart withers in pain's grip, 
And her stomach twists with dreads and fears. 

Her happiness was shattered by a call to her phone, 
Bad news breaking her calm like a bullet splintering glass. 
She meets the cold night alone, 
Heartbroken, as she watches clouds pass, 
Across skies speckled with stars.

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