Daily Prompt: Breakdown > Photographers, artists, poets: show us BROKEN.
I felt the floor; strong, rock-like.
Heard my weak back blurt a cry.
Eyes half-open & I let go of a sigh.
Sun is now embracing me.
Used to appreciate it.
But now I just dreaded it.
A few minutes passed,
Still lying on the floor,
Brutally grasping for thoughts
I can’t seem to abhor.
A harder floor now; solid, thick.
My wobbly back screamed for agony.
My muscles jolted like freaks.
But my mouth halted in the odd irony.
Moon is fixed on my anatomy.
Used to welcome it
But tonight is just not it.
A few hours passed,
The solid floor became my bed
My body became my shield
A shriek, I heard so loud and clear.
Into the deepest part…
Something is crying.
Something is trying.
Mending the BROKEN.
Agspeak, House of Beautiful People, 10/27/2013