*A slightly different version of this six-word story first appeared on Medium several years back in a Six-Word Story Submission Call I’d done in A Cornered Gurl.
she used to make me
feel like the ends of a
loaf of bread—lonely
and untouched, a nuisance
among false nutrition.
it took years for me to
recognize that I was
stuffed French Toast—quality
breakfast—a delicacy across
the world over.
to her, I would never be
more, so I left.
she would always see
the ends of a loaf of
bread—ever-present, first
and last in line, dependable,
yet too tough to swallow.
I am a four-course meal,
never-ending hors d’oeuvres,
and endless recipes of
food for the soul.
too bad she’ll never be
full from me.
a day off for care…
eyes checked.
teeth checked.
a breakfast for the
body & soul…
I moved through the
world like it owed
me more than
comfort, and I
found it.
Friday is a day made
for self-love and
spiritual
realignment.
Saturday will judge
my character.
am I better yet?
Scattered Words: Hardcover $26.00 USD|Scattered Words: eBook $11.00 USD|Scattered Words: Amazon
Scattered Words: Hardcover $26.00 USD|Scattered Words: eBook $11.00 USD|Scattered Words: Amazon
you could never Kill Bill me to death.
Uma Thurman Martial Artsing her way
through vixens and villains is a pastime
of which I approve.
who else could murder the father of her child
while giving her daughter a glimpse
of taking down the patriarchy with a katana sword
a dead-to-the-world craftsman steeled for her?
two installments power-packed with rage, love, grief, and gore
while the wounds of a betrayed woman
fester is top-tier viewing for pleasure.
whenever I want to escape my pain,
I Beatrix Kiddo it away.
Originally published on Substack Notes.
eight months later, you still
visit me as I’m visiting you, and
my world has shifted to
peacefulness in other forms.
you were my peace.
you were my comfort.
you were my joy.
although, it is becoming familiar
in the void, I’m still breathless
without you.
I don’t think the same.
I don’t move the same.
the woman I am turning into
wishes she had your knowing
stare in front of her.
but this is grief…
I am covered in love
I carry in my bones for you—you’re
still in every blink of my
eyes and every curl of my
fingers.
I can feel you in the gaps
and pauses of time—you are
everywhere and nowhere
simultaneously… and on most
days, that is a heartbreak I
shovel through until my
arms give way to the pain
sleeping in their veins.
my forever fur baby—you will
never know how centered you
kept me—how grounded I grew
to be in the comfort of
your care.
maybe you felt it as you
were dying.
maybe you smelled it as
you watched me take on
your independence when
it fell from your soul.
maybe you sensed the
slowness of every step I
took around you—cautious of
your weathered bones.
I stand in the midst of
temporary silence, birds sing
a song of which I am lyric-less,
and chickens keep watch over
hours of land where my heart
is buried, and I wonder…
if you’re in heaven, will you
wait for me?
do you even want to?
Originally published in Poking the Bear’s Belly for Fun on Substack.
A Cornered Gurl 
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