I wrote your vengeful words on a torn scrap of paper, folding it into four corners to hold in the strictures, then tucked it into an old, musty book. The one that sits on a high shelf, never read, just gathering dust and losing its memories.
Plaguing my weary mind, I muted their chittering demands for release. Hidden away, ignored but not forgotten, so the black germs of your contagion wouldn’t continue to infect my spirit.
I should have burnt your words, destroying each one forever. Still I hoard them, keeping them within reach, to someday return them back to you.
*Photo venue: The stacks at Niceville Library, Niceville, FL
Thin spiral notebook 
what Bobian said. The way you used infect actually brought out everything else. It infected the spirit. That was a great line. good work, partner.
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Funny. This calls to mind a high school boyfriend who wrote me a lot of poetry. When he hurt me I had a huge poetry bonfire. Sometimes I wish I hadn’t done that, had held onto something. One thing. Tucked it away in a book somewhere, but nope.
Also, regarding your comment convo with Deana, my two cents. People do sometimes change, but I’ve learned that I have one life and I shouldn’t waste a second of it waiting on that change. Still, it makes for good stories. 😉
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I get this feeling so well. You packed three tons of emotion into 100 words. Excellent entry, Tara!
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Reminds me of how I feel about some of my Mom’s writings. They’re really mean and seriously evil (I’m not being sarcastic here), and yet, they are written in her hand and I can’t quite part with them, yet.
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Wow. You packed so much in there. Nicely done! I especially love the image of the book on the shelf.
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Wow, that was a powerful little tidbit
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I love the way you kill two birds with one stone. That’s an impressive piece..x
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Ooh. I have held onto far too many words that I should have burned and released. It is like you are in my mind with this one.
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Lovely. It’s funny how those word warp I mind, and hold us captive. It’s taken a great deal of practice, but forgiveness seems to be the effective way to cure me of ache of words misused.
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Why is it that we can’t seem to let go of things or people that hurt us? This is very good, my friend.
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For me, it’s that unrealistic hope that ‘they’ will some day change.
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yes, I can see that. That does make sense.
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