
If you don’t tell me what you need, how am I supposed to know?

If you asked me to —
At just the right moment,
I’d recreate a world where
You and I could spend our
Time simply taking chances
Until…
There are no chances left.
Originally posted via A Cornered Gurl on Medium.
*As you welcome a new year, I hope each of you is able to just sit and be and reflect on what 2018 brought your way, how you handled it, and what you will do in 2019 if faced with such things once again. I wish you peace, love, a hope-filled space, and tons of creativity to get you through the new year. Peace and blessings.
It has been a few months since I have posted something from Visual Verse. Truth be told, the last few prompt pictures, I sincerely did not care for, and when I cannot be prompted, then there’s nothing that comes from the art presented to the Writers from my mind to the screen, however, this month–I truly enjoyed the artwork used and I wanted to create something a bit fun, creative, yet emotional too. As always, I will post a snippet of the piece here, then direct you to it in its entirety via the website.
A big thank you to Visual Verse for letting this one fly.
Brushstrokes:
she’s gifted, you know?
that’s what the administrators
at our school say of her.
she’s “exceptional”, “amazing”
“vibrant” and “eclectic”.
she has her own style.
I’ve watched her work,
watched her splay the brush
back and forth, making art
quicker than anyone I have ever known.
with simple brushstrokes,
an inanimate object
comes to life.
You can read the rest here. As I stated above, I truly enjoyed this month’s prompt and I am anxious to see what January will offer. As always, thank you for reading.

We Will Not Be Silenced… is available now via Amazon. The Writers collective for this anthology is a jaw-dropping list and I will name a few: Sarah Doughty, Ali Grimshaw, and Candice Louisa Daquin.
I have my copy. Do you have yours?

Even the most subtle hint of creating change can bring out the beasts of the world. An army can obliterate them. The problem is, we don’t have enough people willing to don his or her armor to fight for what’s right in the open when the light is perfectly set. Fear is a mongrel, steadfast when it has a target. “Stand up for something or fall for anything.”
he came over to chain my door,
to give an extra sense of security,
and I watched him choose
between two drills and hundreds of bits
as he examined the space.
metal.
thick, double-paned.
hollow.
he tapped the nails, then screwed
them, then drilled, then tapped again
and I remembered how eager he used
to be to make me happy
but I couldn’t muster up
any love for him no matter
how hard I tried.
today, he left me with extra bolts,
extra locks, and an extra dent
in my heart.
I should feel something for him,
I should, but I don’t.
and now his damn cologne
is all that I smell.
how will I get rid of that?
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