Flash Fiction & Poetry
Summer/Mother Break
Three flights of stairs between mother and son.
Climbing, his boots play the steps like a drum.
Anticipation rises as he bolts.
Stairwell’s heat causes his soul to melt.
One flight conquered as his worries darken.
“Is she conscious or have the complications started?”
His pondering ends as he defeats the third flight.
Catches his breathe, her life on the brink.
He studies mother’s lifeless eyes, her eyes seem cursed.
Holds her hand that’s never felt so coarse.
Kicks a chair, his fury unleashed.
He tries to scream, but no breath to speak.
He punctures the cheap dry wall,
leaving knuckles blood soaken.
Like all the promises he made,
his mother is broken…
About the author
i strive for domination through sick hook shots on the court while trying to keep my British Knights clean. you'll notice in my writing that i'm infatuated with gypsy women and carnies. i've often dreamed about traveling with the circus, but their souls were illiterate. and you will soon learn more about k-benzo although i haven't wrote in about a year, i'll be posting some old favorites from my bloomington travels.
| Print article | This entry was posted by Kent Lucas on October 25, 2009 at 3:27 pm, and is filed under Uncategorized. Follow any responses to this post through RSS 2.0. You can leave a response or trackback from your own site. |
about 10 months ago
emotion transcends for sure. heart wrenching. nice post.