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She cries out loud for restitution as she calls out His name.
Rather it be in anger, disgust, or sadness.
Broken promises, faulty actions, and false words have only led to heartbreak. Nothing but tears out of despite of anger and hurt.
Eyes which show nothing but despair.
Treacherous cries that are known from guilt.
Meaningless words, for they are seen as nothing more but lies.
She allows him to leave as she prays, he never returns.
Sunken eyes, sudden weight loss, and dramatic tales only provide the truth behind his actions.
She pleads and begs for prayers to be answered.
Prayers to be saved from the next chapter.
Requests for aid in finding freedom.
As she calls out for those listening ears from above, she feels there is no hope.
Once again she has entered solitude, one bared years ago.
Defeated and drained; financially and emotionally.
Resources scarce and broken laws overlooked.
Prayers not answered,
Pleads not bargained.
What is one to do.
As days pass, emotions intensify.
A tense environment leads to walking on eggshells.
All while lies and manipulation only increases.
Fear is all that is known. Not to be alone, but of what he may do.
About the Creator
Deborah Portillo
I’m just an amateur writer, expressing my hopes, dreams, and nightmares for all to read. A lot of my short stories come from nightmares, while my poems are expressed from hopes, dreams, and feelings.
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Red Shelves
Death is a black hole. Think about it. A black hole is the corpse of a star, something once warm and bright, now come to the end of its life cycle. But some will argue that the cycle of life does not end with death. That death is merely another path we must walk once our bodies expire and our souls ascend. In that moment, when the fuel in the star’s chemical tank hits empty and the shiny matte coat explodes into supernova, the mass left behind – the corpse – becomes a black hole. We understand that, around such a vast cadaver, dimensions work a little differently in death to the way we’re used to in life. For example, light cannot escape the pull of a black hole when it hits the point of no return. That’s where it gets its colour. Space itself is contorted by a black hole. That’s where it gets its funny shape. Even time. Time slows right down the closer you get to it. The closer you get to a black hole. The closer you get to death.
By Matthew Curtis7 days ago in Humans
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