Quick Post No. 6

She was a hot mess,
From her whiskey at breakfast
To her vodka dinner bell.
She floated past the days
Soaking in soured yeast and silk.
Her gentle skill and free love
kept me tied to her despite the fact.
I watched her degradation with
spite and envy, for being so ethereal
And swigging herself into
an early grave.

 

THE END

 

Copyright WB Welch – All Rights Reserved

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

To see the photo that originally inspired this post, visit the Instagram link below.

Quick Post No. 6

 

Quick Post No. 6

Quick Post No. 5

Vixen of magic,
Siren of old,
Devil of dancing,
True black gold.
Oil dipped blood,
Hardened veins,
Home of harpies,
Bed of flames.

You’ll lose your soul in her eyes
And find your heart in her mouth.
She’ll snake your being right out of your ribs
And eat your tongue on toast.

Her desire is darker than any hole you’ve ever looked into,
And once you’ve fallen in,
you’ll never find your way out again.

 

THE END

 

Copyright WB Welch – All Rights Reserved

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

To see the photograph that originally inspired this post, visit the original Instagram post:

Quick Post No. 5

 

Quick Post No. 5

Quick Post No.4

Just like ants we dance and dance
But where are we really going?
Sales helped your boss buy his hoss
while mother’s problems are growing.
Top floor office with cedar and oak,
You wake entitled and proud,
While families starve and soldiers miss birthdays
and forests burn to the ground.
“I can’t help, I’m only one,
My face can burn under the sun,
I’m not special and I’m not rich,
I understand you sleep in a ditch,
But that’s your choice, you brought you here,
No I can’t just lend you my ear,
Not a quarter, not a nickel,
I didn’t put you in this pickle,
I’m have somewhere to be,
You’re a delay, can’t you see?” Priorities.

 

THE END

 

Copyright WB Welch – All Rights Reserved

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

To see the photograph that originally inspired this post, please visit the Instagram post:

Quick Post No. 4

 

Quick Post No.4

Quick Post No. 7

Red sees red,
Hate stained head,
Last breath echoes,
Brute fiend fed.
Strong love served,
Taught plucked nerve,
Soft heart boiled,
Wanton left curve.
Attempted dissolution,
Vicious resolution,
Purple veined bruises,
Painful absolution.
Knife to lung,
Thrust thrice sung,
Her love pooled,
His red won.

 

THE END

 

Copyright WB Welch – All Rights Reserved

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

To see the photo that originally inspired this story, visit the Instagram link below.

Quick Post No. 7

 

Quick Post No. 7