Sisters by Susan Richardson

I am a slick pen slicing furtively into bone She is a kind heart bleeding with purpose onto a muslin sleeve I am a ghost on the parchment She is a splash of color saturating the page I command pity She earns respect I am words lacerating sensibilities She is music sitting sweetly in the…

Convenient Truths by Susan Richardson

She is a tapestry of fiction, a cloak constructed from convenient truths. Her sentiment slithers, a hissing whisper in my ear, dripping in strands of insincerity that creep down my neck. Her memories are fabrications, shoved into the back of her mouth to keep the truth from coming out. A vain attempt at gobbling up…