Crumbling

Stealing glances at the clock I waited impatiently Typed impersonally Made to do lists mentally Then the telltale hour hit and breathing came unsteadily Tentative fingers dialed The unknown beckoned and beguiled Ringing and ringing and ringing My sinking heart awaited trial Until a voice on the other end Quietly confirmed a fear most vile Sending me falling onto my knees and wondering if life would ever again be worthwhile

Battleground

Each morning when the alarm clock rings, she whispers a prayer and hopes He brings...an end to the war she’s waging. Every single day. The enemy may surprise you; Evil works hard to find a way. To crush a positive spirit, dim the light inside. Cruel words, deceit and mockery are now weapons to strip her pride. Belittled, manipulated, attacked...such ruthless spite could knock anyone off their path. But though her soul is deeply bruised, the strength within her can’t be diffused. With a graceful heart and spark so bright, integrity is her shield to win this fight.

Disenchanted

It was impossible not to let my guard down when such earnest words escaped your lips. Caressing the edges of my face, lifting the hair from my neck, they made their way in through my receptive ears. Tentative, but twinkling with hopefulness. They began to chisel at the stone wall around my skeptical heart. But just as I started to believe them, their value began to change. Hopefulness turned to disrespect and hid behind a mask of silence. The common bond we quickly formed was cast away like pirates. Any honesty in those words will always remain a question. The wall around my heart is secure again; and only a man as good as his word can break it.

The Real Thing

I slam the car door, glance up, and see her, Standing in the middle of the sidewalk. Mickey Mouse waves at me from her yellow t-shirt, ripped jean shorts barely cover her ass. Closer to God in those heels, but just pushing five feet. She’s got one hand on her hip, a baby on the other. I pause, my heart full of admiration. A cigarette hangs from her brightly painted mouth. She takes a calculated drag and exhales slowly. The sun beats down on us. Scorching. It’s driving the men mad. Her copper and gold curls catch the light and for a moment she looks at me. One brown eye, one blue. I nod in greeting. Her head turns back and her lips form a familiar, unimpressed sneer. She clenches her jaw and I grin, knowing what comes next. "Yo tengo mi nena, tener respecto."