They all won’t be sad, promise.
And for those of you who have already read this one, apologies for the repeat. It’s just, I took the first bite of my apple…
—
Mushy apples, wet peanut butter, cigarette smoke.
Plastic straws, caged animals, tree stumps.
Distended bellies, oppressed souls, false hope.
Hiccups, parking tickets, splintered wood.
Sirens, screeching brakes, raised fists.
Apathy, the sound of pain, someday I should.
You deserve the best, cold feet, flights home.
Bad timing, broken promises, empty words.
Twilight, sleeping alone…waking up alone.
Illustration by Heather Horton
* Cover illustration by Ashley Bowersox
Summoning Magic: A Gypsy's Tale 
Wow! This was so visual and that ending was a gut punch.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks, lovely. It feels like a gut punch at times, but we’re getting over the hump, I hope. (even if I have to burn the funking thing down.) ;o)
I love to see your name pop up…every single time. xoxo
LikeLiked by 2 people
Always—I love your writing 😊
LikeLiked by 1 person
Well that’s a beautiful thing to hear. Yours always makes me happy. You are one the handful of writers who can make me laugh out loud…and when I say handful, I mean like 1 of 3. 🙂 ☺️❤️🥰
LikeLike
Powerful poem once again, Brooke. The ending makes it so, “Bad timing, broken promises, empty words. Twilight, sleeping alone…waking up alone…” It also makes peanut butter taste all that much better ~ my favorite comfort food 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
I just saw this one as well! WordPress plays favorites it seems! Again, your thoughts mean the world, so thank you. And agreed, everything is better with peanut butter…just not when you have to wash it off the spoon! 😉
LikeLike