I’m way behind with Pat’s Prompt: “Consider the images, the quote, the dissonance, discord and…Write in the style and form you wish. Remember to include the tags MLMM and (Sunday) writing prompt in your posts.”
What THEY wanted—
That’s where it all started, where
It would always and ever end;
Their wants, needs; their
Convenience and limitations;
Their rules, their way, their
Superior ideas, their say.
And if that wasn’t enough they
Wanted pretty lies, like shiny
Ribbons, wrapped ’round every
Word, gesture of my submission.
Generational deceit kept the wheels
Turning smoothly on the family cart—
Because, heaven forbid you try to
Force the truth on them: a crashing
Head-on collision of realities.
So, now that I’d been made
Hopelessly ill by their demanding
Dishonesty—so chronic as to eat
Away, corrode and erode the soul
Same as terminal cancer—
I volunteered to host a reunion.
The flowers and tables were arranged
To perfection, and I’d been cooking
For days—a menu accommodating
Everyone’s dietary peculiarities…
Charlie, my erstwhile romantic focus, had
Remained an occasional casual friend
Whenever he came out of hiding, looking
For food he didn’t catch in the wild.
He lived deep-in, where the Woodbine Twineth;
An alienated recluse since his tour of duty
In the Vietnamese jungles had made
The war his permanent condition.
When asked if he could find, get me something,
His sunken eyes slowly appraised me…
And he inquired what my need was.
He knew my brokenness well, was thus
Surprised I’d be entertaining family
And hangers-on, pseudo-kinfolk.
I shrugged, gave no details he’d be pressed
To prevaricate about, if questioned.
“You won’t see me, after this,” I said softly,
As I poured his small bottles and vials
Into the “endless punch bowl”, and
Handed the empties back to him.
“You gonna be alright, Miss Marlys?”
“Oh yes, Charlie—I’ll be fine.
We’ll all be fine, I reckon. Eventually.”
The local papers made much of the
Horrific mystery; wondered if “Old
Charlie” had suddenly snapped. But
No one would ever find him. His
Campsite was abandoned, just a little
Shrine left behind: a bouquet of dying
Field flowers, and a paper heart…
“For Marlys”, scribbled with burnt match heads♥
©Jael Sook, 2017 All rights reserved.
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