To Be Born, I Wanted Not.

{ Denise gracefully hosts Six Sentence Stories, where writers unleash their magic under one simple rule: in no more or no less than 6 sentences.
This week’s prompt word is : STROKE }

 

To Be Born, I Wanted Not.

 

ℜeflection escapes me…
yet, hold a mirror in front of sore & eros you shall see.

 

All it takes is move an ℜ…explore, willingly or not, your emotions & their range;
yet, all it takes is move an ℜ & they become anger, blackening your heart into a spider webbed hearth full of cinders and rage.

 

Into the fray to aver the innocence of the blood in your vein…
yet, all it takes is move an ℜ & find yourself drowning in a rave of pain.

 

Preception everywhere, even before the bishop of Salisbury first used the word…
yet, all it takes is move an ℜ & gain perception of yourself connecting to the world.

 

Carve day in, night out,  balancing upon the edge of the precipice of debris…
yet, all you had to do Master is move an ℜ & from the crave set me free.

 

Bram wrote for thirty years, fifty letters a day for Sir Irving and he still managed to give birth to me…
yet, Master Stoker ask me he did not; all it took was move an ℜ & a stroke shuttered his hourglass leaving the dilemma  whether I wanted to be born, unanswered by me.

\\//\\//

WARNING: The following song by Ben Caplan contains Explicit lyrics ; you have been warned – press play at your own peril.

 

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