Prompt for June 8: Vicious

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[Prompt from http://daily-writing.blogspot.com/ .]

Hope is a cruel thing,
One that draws you back
Again and again, each
Time with the false promises
Of a new beginning, a fresh
Start. Hope is the definition
Of insanity. You continue
To let her draw you back
Into her warm bosom,
Where the world finally
Feels safe and you secure
Only to find that the
Warm this actually
Dry ice or even
Liquid nitrogen,
Burning your skin off
In pieces. Yet you continue
To fly into her waiting arms,
Praying that things will
Be different this time around.
But they never are, are they?

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Prompt for June 2: Knives

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[Prompt from http://daily-writing.blogspot.com/ .]

Gleaming silver blinking in the sunlight. Reflecting trees, grass, the lake in the corner. A red and white checked picnic blanket. Picnics. Yum. Reflecting a couple siting, eating off of paper circles with silver sticks. Eating mashed taters, leaves, coolcumbers. Man in shirt and pants. Lady in yellow dress. Pretty yellow, sun yellow. Spots of red. Blood red. Man touched lady. Lady smiles. Man want lady.

I want lady.

Gleaming silver dirty now. Screams louder than planes overhead. Gleaming silver not gleaming no more. Lots of blood everywhere. Blood.

Yum.