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Drabbles - 100 words Musings and reflection Poetry Prompted

Last Ride. Except not, really.

by Trish / 15/04/2021

My eyes are burned from staring too intently into the light. I need the dark to soothe me a bit, to wrap me up and tell me it’s alright to be low to be blue to be less for a while. I don’t want to be more than this. That suggests I can get ahead of it somehow, that I can be larger than it feels When all I feel is overwhelmed. No matter how many sunsets are counted Sometimes…

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Musings and reflection Self-Realization

Birthday blues (and reds, oranges, yellows, greens, indigos, and purples)

by Trish / 08/04/2021

To everyone who cheered me with birthday messages today, you make me feel so loved and cherished, and I want to reciprocate with eloquence and grace in all the ways you deserve. I want to write you something beautiful. I want to share glorious details and sing of epic days, but I don’t have the words right now. They’ll be back though, don’t worry. Right this second, everything is difficult and yet not somehow. That said, I am functional. I…

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Poetry Prompted

Followthrough – January

by Trish / 26/03/2021

JAN 21 – BOOKSTORE “You can’t just play catch-up like that you know. These things always turn out better if they are allowed to happen organically. What if you just started on the prompt closest to today’s date and continued from there?”“Because I fucking love bookstores, okay? Besides this is my time and I get to spend it how I like.” I am not the reader I was. Perhaps that could be said of anything, that I am not as…

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Musings and reflection Poetry

Predawn Ramble

by Trish / 25/03/2021

I kept dreaming you were dead. You are, so that makes a certain amount of sense. My brain getting me used to the idea regardless of how much I will never ever be used to the idea. In all of my dreams, it has been too late to say anything, you were very obviously dead. It wasn’t even a matter of there being things I wanted to tell you and lamented the inability, the loss of connection, my subconscious was…

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Musings and reflection

Variations on voice

by Trish / 08/03/2021

A few years ago I read the book, When Women Were Birds:Fifty-four Variations on Voice by Terry Tempest Williams. It is an autobiography. Told by her dying mother that she was to inherit all her journals, she was instructed not to look at them until she was gone. At some point after, she found the journals, three shelves full, and opened the first to find it blank. The second, the third and so forth. All of them empty. Though my…

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Poetry Prompted

Strawberries

by Trish / 20/01/2021

I would like to write like a strawberry. All bright red sweetness with stems that run all over when left to their own devices. Self starting, self seeding, self aware that they can be wild, even when tamed. There is nothing better than the best ones, when all factors combine, align and create something that seems both a miracle and inevitable.…

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Musings and reflection Prompted

Uplift

by Trish / 15/01/2021

I’m doing a puzzle that is mostly yellow on a floor that is mainly carpeted in a room that is far too dark for this sort of thing. But there needs to be something. Something needs to be happening because the alternative is not an option. I was distracted for hours after the call, I was lost in a numb place where I didn’t know what to do with myself because there is nothing that seems like enough to counterbalance…

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Musings and reflection Prompted

Superstition

by Trish / 12/01/2021

I wanted to write this as a story. I was so sure that was how it planned to show up. A fiction, woven with that familiar scent that tales ancient without being musty, tend to have. There is a universality to the fear that comes of doing it wrong, whether that is mixing up baking powder and soda while baking, or forgetting to cross your fingers when walking under a ladder in a cemetary on the 13th of Tuesday. We’ll…

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Musings and reflection Prompted Self-Realization

Once upon a time

by Trish / 05/01/2021

Once upon a time I was brave. I didn’t need help. I didn’t need prompts like this, because the words flowed fast and strong, without any effort beyond a hand holding a pen steady. And this is how fairy tales are born. Events that are half remembered with a fondness, a nostalgia and retold in such a way that they flatter the protagonist. I often speak of being unaware of when I stopped being brave, when I became afraid of…

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Musings and reflection Prompted

December 31 – The view from here

by Trish / 31/12/2020

From where I sit the light is fading, but the clouds obscure any definition of colour, so I will have to make my own in this, and likely other, moments. The sky is vast, the horizon broad, and I am grateful. My view has expanded, and with it, perspective that I can have the things I desire without losing myself or my integrity in the art of the level up. For so long I’ve carried this notion that in order…