Tag isolation

Desert – WordPress Daily Prompt

freyathewriter 4 Comments

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Her soul is arid

desert-dry and barren

crushed grains of sand

slipping between her fingers.

Desiccated and bereft of all that could have been,

hiding within herself

she cowers in the face of all that life has thrown at her.

Harsh winds have turned her into a husk

of her former, vibrant self.

She feels safer, protected behind these unscalable walls

but what price safety, if she is

isolated?

A woman as an island,

separated from a succulent oasis

is no woman at all.

Here is a poem, inspired by the WordPress Daily Prompt, which today is ‘desert’. Why not have a go yourself? Poetry, short fiction, stream of consciousness – let your imagination run wild!

 

Defence -Daily Prompt

freyathewriter 5 Comments

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I protect myself with iron

with chain-link, I defend myself

you may not breach the battlements

I do not consent

it’s safer that way

– for me –

I will not take the risk

I will not let you in

hemmed in isolation protects me

from the rest of you

I am still at my own mercy

the most destructive force of all

 

Here’s my entry into the WordPress Daily Prompt, where today’s word is ‘fence’. Please do check in to read other entries!

Vanquished – 3 Word Wednesday

freyathewriter 6 Comments

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I am undone.

Routine is whisked away on the winds roaring outside, battering the trees, rattling the windows, bruising the very fabric of the earth. So it has been, for decades.

My days (used to) consist of the familiar, the mundane. Draw water from the well, feed the goats and chickens, wash, eat breakfast, read, write, nap, eat… No different than most, these days. We eke out our existence in isolated homesteads tens of miles apart. A joy before, a chore in these times. I crave companionship. I do not wish to rot here, alone. My mind is a hard taskmaster.

You arrived, unknown and unannounced. Nobody had mentioned you on my last monthly trip round the vicinity. The advent of a stranger does not go unnoticed, does not happen cloaked in silence. Our lives are so predictable, it’s what passes for excitement.

The mists shrouded the house, as if to keep your presence a secret. You stood, framed in my doorway, backlit by an ethereal, muted grey light. You are dressed entirely in black. A cloak, a brimmed hat, sturdy boots.

I gave you shelter, because that’s how we survive, helping one, helping all. Isolation, division and distrust serve no purpose in these times.

You said little. I am used to silence within these four walls. I felt no urge to fill the void for I am gifted in this strength of character. You will tell what is necessary, when the time comes.

And the time has come. And the time is now. I must reciprocate. The urge to do so is intense – it overwhelms me. The air has shifted.

I am undone.

——

This is my latest entry to 3 Word Wednesday and is linked to my entry to Magpie Tales.

This week, the words are:

Gifted

Intense

Rot

It’s dark, yet intriguing, right? What do you imagine is going on?