by Sparks In Shadow

Photo by AGrinberg via Flickr


The cacophony of hearts thrown against my door
hurt my ears
and stained the wood with more than blood.

Scrubbed with beloved pine scented soap, the smears resisted
until I remembered myself in every spattered drop and ragged artery torn out,
aching to know why
and how so many collected when I’d said no.

Pressing my hand to the hollow of my chest
where a fledgling heart grew again, faster than I thought possible,
I prayed for reprieve,
or a death
like unsuspecting insects
against the windshield god.

Then I dashed inside to protect it.
But time passed,
and the noise began again.

This was written for Trifextra: Week Eleven from these words which were to be used in order: cacophony, soap, insects.