Author: Reena Saxena

Time Doesn’t Heal All Wounds

she’d forgiven everyone
and emptied her home
of all that gave it meaning;
that’s how it was,
and that’s how it will be,
you don’t assume she’d forgotten
all that you have done;
the hurt?
no dear, it’s still there
the pain?
yes, it’s even painful this time
the humiliation?
of course, she remembers
the bitter fun?
you think it was funny?
she remembers –
and oh, in case you’ve forgotten
time they say heals all wounds?
nahh, it isn’t true,
for she can still feel
every bit of scratch you made,
every bit of twitch you created,
every bit of cut you inflicted,
time doesn’t heal all wounds
it may take off a part of the wound
but it never heals the pain;
time is not a healer,
not a surgeon,
not a doctor;
you’ve hurt her –
she remembers; always
you’ve caused her…

The Game

She asks, what dreams may be, what dreams for me,
a pawn sacrificed, from daughter to wife
for riches gained, for connections, to see
a family well-rise, though bought with her life.
Come smile, come dance, enchant, and charm, a king
can be a fool, a fool a king, embrace
the chase where you’re the lure to snag the ring.
So, bards will sing and painters paint—a trace
of her may remain after death, a child
might live to rule. She’ll have the final laugh.
But she won’t know, if beguiled or reviled,
she smiles and waits, a pause midst notes on staff,
one bar sung. A moment in time and place
so bright, but small compared to sun or moon.
Hand-fasted, on a square within a space
she waits with hope, with doubt, with thoughts fine-tuned.
Now, she’s played queen’s gambit, now she is queen–
moves played…

THIS WEEK’S WORDS come from“Emptying”by Aaron Zhang:summer, edge, wave, branches, leaf, pretense, paper, soiled, bridge, ring, warble, echo

She’d forgiven everyone

and emptied her home

of all that gave it meaning

a new leaf this summer

a new beginning

with branches of faith

and a wave of hope

No more pretense

no more soiled tears

no more living on the edge

echoing time to move on

like a wild bird warble

bridging that gap

to make her whole again

(c) ladyleemanila 2023

For: https://reinventionsreena.wordpress.com/2023/06/15/reenas-xploration-challenge-284/, http://sundayswhirligig.blogspot.com/2023/06/whirligig-427.html

Reena is our host and this week says:

I give you a line which can be used anywhere in your piece. The idea of a first line or last line becomes too restrictive.

You can break it up, but you cannot insert or skip words in between. Well, we do need some conditions. 🙂

She’d forgiven everyone and emptied her home of all that gave it meaning.

Written for https://reinventionsreena.wordpress.com/2023/06/15/reenas-xploration-challenge-284/

She’d forgiven everyone and emptied her home of all that gave it meaning. Now, on the edge of yet another move, Martha was moving on. Was her marriage always a hollow shell? Perhaps, but she couldn’t help thinking she could have done more. The vase, which held so much meaning, a forgotten mass of pottery.

Flowers, his go to, when he was feeling remorseful.

A long day at work, a meeting, so much pressure. What did she have to complain about? Didn’t she get that new kitchen? Holidays abroad? A new diamond ring? Still it wasn’t good enough.

Now she knew different – all those belongings didn’t compare to happiness.

Perhaps the last person she needed to forgive, was herself. It was never her fault; the hate, the blame game. A dinner late, or a word said in haste. ‘I’m sorry,’ said the walls, even more quickly.

The prompt is to use this sentence in a story:
She’d forgiven everyone and emptied her home of all that gave it meaning.

Annette had never heard of the term “hoarder” until her 25-year-old daughter sandwiched it in-between two “F” words at the top of her lungs upon entering her old family home.
Her daughter hadn’t been home in seven years. Annette still held bad feelings about Lanie’s abandonment of her for all that time in the same way she hadn’t yet forgiven Lanie’s dad for dying and abandoning her too. She felt that Lanie was terribly rude in her overreaction to a “little” flea market clutter.

“What the HELL, Ma?! This place is a stinking mess and a fire death trap. What were you thinking?”

“Really?! You don’t come home for years, and you think you own this place NOW.”

Annette wasn’t going to take that language or attitude…