Full of raw and unfiltered fluid poems, short stories and prompts on love, sex, relationships and life. I also review haircare, skincare and other beauty products. Instagram: grungefirepoetry MissBeautyBargain Facebook: grungefirepoetry
I’ll be the crimson fury behind your strength, preparing you for battle, not between neighbors and sirens, but of head and heart and purpose.
The Woman From Trevi Fountain
The first time I saw her, her eyes had been dancing upon the Trevi Fountain in Rome, wide with wonder, gleaming with mischief as she dipped her bare hand inside the cool water. Despite the heavy presence of authority guarding the fountain, she still managed to get passed them, and simply shared a smile with the officers the moment they caught her disobeying the law. She held no fear in her demeanor then as her hand slipped out of the water and her feet hit the ground in a carefree sprint away from the officers.
Shards Of Being: The Finale
Years later..... JOSEPH As soon as I opened the window to my old bedroom, the sound of the latest Bachata hit on the radio blasted through the speakers of someone’s car down the block, while the smell of chopped cheese sandwiches and pastelitos blew into my room and captured my attention. I decided a chopped cheese sandwich would have to do as my last New York delicacy before I left for good and headed downstairs to the corner store to buy one.
Shards Of Being: Ch. 10
SOPHIA “It’s me, Sophia.” Joseph’s voice on the other side of the door forced me to swallow hard. Damn it. What the hell was I supposed to say to him? Hey, I only kissed you that night at the beach to make my dead boyfriend jealous. No hard feelings, right?
Shards Of Being: Ch. 9
JOSEPH I could hear her rummage behind me as she helped empty out my dresser while I continued to pack my things into boxes. Antoine’s roommate’s lease had expired and he had asked me if I’d like to move in when we got back from the Poconos. I accepted, not really talking it over with my mother, who'd been more like my roommate since I hit puberty and I began to distance myself from her. It bothered her then and it bothered her now. I was her only son. And her only son was moving out. I was making good money at the construction yard with Uncle Santiago and working part time as a security guard. Granting me the luxury of being able to finally be on my own, pay my own bills, and do just about whatever I wanted without anyone telling me what to do.
Shards Of Being: Ch. 8
When I wasn’t participating in one of Marina’s strenuous outdoor activities, I was in my hotel room either burying my face in a book or burying myself in my pillow after taking sleeping pills. Knocking out and not dreaming about Dave was the only thing that was keeping my head above water right about now. Even now, as I woke up from another three hour nap, I felt myself wanting to reach for another sleeping pill on my bedside table, but a knock on my hotel room door stopped me. I rubbed my tired face and popped a mint into my mouth as I placed my feet into my slippers and headed towards the door to open it.
Shards Of Being: Ch. 7
JOSEPH “Come back to bed,” Tara Ramos purred huskily into my ear as my feet hit the carpet in my hotel room. We’ve been friends with benefits on and off for a couple years now and I always ended up regretting the “on” part. She was a nice girl, on the thicker side, just how I liked them. And the sex was decent enough to keep coming back. But every time we hooked up, I sensed she grew closer and closer to sprouting feelings for me and I just wasn’t into her like that. The only reason I even invited her was to keep Kiana away from me. I came clean to Carlos about the situation months ago and it didn’t make much of a difference. He claimed to have spoken to her and the flirting did stop at first. However, Kiana seemed to be on a mission. And her mission seemed to involve trapping me into her twisted games.
Smoke hindered my vision momentarily as I looked up at a sky full of dead stars above me. I never liked the taste of cigarettes, but I held them in between my fingertips as if I enjoyed the taste of bad habits. If the toxic chemicals swimming about inside my lungs were a testament to anything, it was that I was a sucker for the bad stuff.