I wrote this for the 100 Word Challenge for Grown Ups #4 at The Head’s Office blog.
This week’s challenge had to use the five words of this week’s prompt
–Ripple Brood Evocative Lilt Untoward–
and add exactly 100 more words. The challenge is open to all.
You’ll find this week’s other entries here.
A brood of observers collect along my life’s shores.
What will they see?
Sense of self? Ripple of heartache? Hand outstretched with
fingers curled to suggest that I want– not need?
This untoward lie, told when truth should be tendered,
doesn’t protect, yet protection is the boundary where I make my search,
seeking my soul in the yards of others,
when the lilt of my own voice isn’t enough
to keep my course.
I’ve ignored evocative words with simmering truths,
while searching in those yards.
But you can have my heart
if you look into my eyes, and promise to see
what I shouldn’t