caperkat.

frustrations

the milk carton disintegrated slowly in one corner; calcium enriched sustenance leaked quietly from the slight perforation of decaying cardboard. whenever the refrigerator opened another clump of her hair would fall. the chaos inside reflected her mental state every time the bills came back around. the butterknife started to look more like a foe than the letters waiting to cut away at her dwindling checkbook.





gratifications

ice thawed into morning dew at spring's first yawn, and fawn sprint freely through open woods. the moving portraits outside their winter cabin always came laced with smells of firewood and worn-in wool. these pleasant mornings, awaken by yearning for coffee and stale scones, were such a delight on slowly withering days. even though their lives had passed and retirement settled in their bones, their sighs weren't left unheard by heaven's angels - so they waited with smiles and gnarled fingers interlocked in a last embrace as the night slowly lay them down in peaceful, earthen blankets.






celebrations

the hospital ward cried out in pain and glory as another little soldier cried in triumph. his once blue pallor quickly turned to blushing red as life rushed through his veins and into his lungs. the wings of this new bird were still crippled in newborn's position, but his mother knew at first sight that he'd soon be taking on every mountain and conquer all. ~ he was their son; the first of a reborn tradition with a lifetime of milestones yet to come.





depression

the wounds ground deep through her flesh, into an already scarred soul. her ribs rang in a mournful symphony as her lungs rose and collapsed in a torrent of fear. her tears crashed with the earth in a resounding tone which shook the walls of her own sanatorium, built from construction paper and a shaky resolve as the glue which held it all together. the tiles beneath her wary feet cracked underneath the weight of the burdens she constantly carried. nothing ran as deep in her nightmares as the image of her husband taking away her only son. the shudders quaked in night's howling winds as the pill bottle hit the floor, adding its own thunder-like soundtrack to the horror of this mother's last attempt at bliss.






hate

the barristers tasted of sulfur - both ash and rotted egg perfume deep within these wooden flames. he never knew she loved to play with fire until he saw his world burn around him.

she stood on the sidewalk, watching flames unfold like a flower's bloom. she had a burnt out match in her right hand and an extinguisher in the left. she was half-tempted to save his life before all that beautiful skin fell off his wicked frame; but when she saw the note fluttering across the yard with another tramp's seal next to a beautifully drawn signature she knew he'd never change. dropping all that reminded her of his deceit, she slowly walked away. a devious smile played at the corners of her lips as screams rang out in the night.