Failure is a required part of the human existence.

Prompt: Carve

 
The curve of the clock
traced the motion of the second hand
as it curtly constructed
my schedule,
cutting my time
into precisely
calculated
segments.

The sheen of the blade
sneered as I sliced into succulent flesh,
steak steaming as my husband
sits silently
for his supper,
the rest of the side
served cold
and tasteless.

The lack of clacking on
the keys betray my writer’s block
as emails stack up,
stalking publishers
expecting drafts
that we both know
I cannot
accomplish.

And yet
I’m not sure
which of these failures
carves
into me
most.

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