So lost (part 4) – a minuscule musings series

The following is a part of a ‘minuscule musings’ series. It’s more like a work in progress for a larger piece, a short story. I aim to add to it each week, and hopefully something fluid will come of it!

Read part one
Read part two
Read part three


Betrothed to what was stolen from her.
And when once removed of it, removed from her was her use for me.

And yet, as my mind wandered, as I was at war with myself, I could not convince myself of anything. Caught by conviction, I forced myself to move on as if she never existed. Removed her from my memory, just as the spell she had over me.

And not from me, she’ll ever again feel.

© 2016

So lost (part 3) – a minuscule musings series

The following is a part of a ‘minuscule musings’ series. It’s more like a work in progress for a larger piece, a short story. I aim to add to it each week, and hopefully something fluid will come of it!

Read part one here
Read part two here


And not for me, she’ll ever feel.

And tainted of her blood, like a spell, I have forgotten love. I forbade myself her, from loving her. Forever as a spectre withing my mind. My love for her never returned. But never forgotten, the horror of her losing herself. Her happiness, herself, she was robbed of those things when she chose to live life in mourning.

© 2016

So lost (part 2) – a minuscule musings series

The following is a part of a ‘minuscule musings’ series. It’s more like a work in progress for a larger piece, a short story. I aim to add to it each week, and hopefully something fluid will come of it!

Read part one here


Crestfallen, she falls and I do nothing. She has driven herself to this. There is nothing I can do. And though I love her, I cannot.

I have seen the monster within, the one incapable, unwilling, to surrender to happiness and love. And though my hands are washed of her blood, the torrents stain.

Stains which last, scoring the flesh. Never to be free of her.

© 2016

Her Death is His to Come

Published in the 2011 Blue Fringe Arts Short Story and Poetry Anthology.

blue fringe arts 2011

Her Death is His to Come

To catch the fear
The lonesomeness
The idle hearts
Are broken in sorrow
Deepened wounds
With tearful
Dread
And torrents
Bled
Ill-fated
Ill-gotten
The love is spoiled

Now soaking in
His grief
The end of it
All
Has come
Despondent memory
His life is
Worthless without
Her love

Bleeding hearts
Cupid’s arrow
Is tainted
More hearts
Forever crying out
In sombre, DEATH!

Eviscerated hearts
They are hers
In her sepulchre
Where love is spoiled

Her death is his to come!

© 2009

Want to read more of my Blue Fringe Arts works?
Click here