The sharp stench of stale coffee in the room’s breath.

I keep seeing the clouds in the air

that I breathe from my mouth,

in this cold room without light

with walls white.

I know I should leave what’s not mine,

to give into the doubts of the time.

But the hope you tried to scrape from my skin persists,

even after I have washed my face with red lava.

And so I sit in this chair,

day after day

watching the world go by through the glass

that does not reflect me.


© That Girl in the Fray, 2018.  All rights reserved.


The Raven that Flew Far and Far and Far and Far Away

A Raven once flew too far away from home

It ended up in a barren iced wasteland, all alone

Miles and miles of white devoured the black of the little being

It saw nothing for years on that icy scene

Heard no voice nor felt the beat of another heart

No one to confide to, no one to help heal its scars

no heat

no heat

No Heat

The ache of the thirst.

Fading memories of smiles laughter and mirth .

Starved of love and food

and affection and hope that never renewed

For days it prayed for its breath to stop, its blood to choke in its veins

Anything to stop the blinding tears and the endless pure honest pain

Alas, silence was all that answered its screams

it screamed and screamed

and screamed and screamed and screamed and screamed

The White haunted even its dreams

But it is all untrue.

It is all an illusion.

The battle had left her blind and deaf.