pretty words, compliments and promises


Pretty words, compliments and promises.

The younger me was knocked shivering from her roots, floating like dandelion seeds along the current of rushing dialogue, eating syllables like sweet, sinful bonbons. With every deliciously decadent bite feeling full with words that every blossom longs to hear. Sated with flattery and praise, bloated enough to fly into the clouds and burp adjectives into the hemisphere. Giving birth to flowers everywhere with the hope and promise that someday the pretty, regurgitated words will be theirs, and theirs alone.

Reading with the sunshine and swaying with the moon, we live as green until we aren’t green anymore. Aged with rough barks and twisted limbs, we carry on until the moment everything falls into the Earth once more to fertilize the next generation of thoughts.

Pretty words, compliments and promises.  

The older me was bombarded with the false hollow sounds and I dug my roots in deeper to keep from being knocked over. Shivering with fear as the sun falls on the day behind me, I resisted swallowing the ugly prose before me. I felt their decayed teeth rip me to my core, full of insults from the dripping caverns, sticky with poisonous lures. Shattered from bullying and beatings, so deflated I can no longer stand on my own anymore, I lay down and I weep from frustration. I gave birth to flowers not so long ago and now I can only dream of the days where nightfall wasn’t scary and daytime brought promises of mirth.

Pretty words, compliments and promises.

The new me stands strong against them. I shiver with the thrill of knowing they can no longer hurt me. I care not what they say. I am blind to the quarreling barbs they weakly toss, as they splinter into mist and float away from me. Even though some days I slip and cry tears of sadness I can still see the harmony peaking through. I rush towards the light. I wear it like a super heroes cape and stomp along the edges of the paragraphs with strength and vitality. The light runs in my veins and pierces the silent night with starlight and poetry.

Pretty words abound.

Compliments surround.

Promises by the pound.

About Madeline Scribes

A writer with a sense of humor. If anyone can laugh at life, it's me.
This entry was posted in Artsy and Poetic and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

8 Responses to pretty words, compliments and promises

  1. kurtislunz says:

    Do you really like bonbons like that though, or were you just saying that to be cliche?

    Liked by 1 person

  2. You write really well – glad to have found your site.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. If interested, there is another ancient story aspect of a men and womans’s greatest compliments to each other.

    Regards and goodwill blogging.

    Liked by 1 person

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