78/366

And she said it felt like 1,000 daggers being thrust into her heart…

and they would wake up in the morning and hold each other
until the robins stopped singing their swooning songs of spring…
until their love and kisses were spent
and the sun would sweep in
to fill their hearts again
and the daffodils peeked
from their winter slumber
with ostentatious buds
blooming all around

and the day would be beautiful

and perfect

and fine.

But the day was not

beautiful

perfect

 or

fine.

It was a day of 1,000 daggers…

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s