Writing prompt: fiction, non-fiction or poetry.

Writing prompt: 800 words or less, being forced to make choices you want nothing to do with because you need it to survive. Fiction, non-fiction, and poetry welcome. Post responses or links to responses in the comments.

TC180

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One…little…step…

One more step
down the road
one more cold
dead-end
brick wall
stained alley.

One more knee scuff

eardrum rip

wanting to be close
to the noise

to breathe.

One more disruption

just another

wink
tear
slap

snatch the candy
back.

One more reason to breathe,

rest quietly

without fear of monsters
behind eyes

in nostrils

snorted in

snuffed out

gunned down

friends.

***

((Spontaneous first draft. Feedback welcome. Let me know if too emo.))

Untitled

I can’t breathe.

There’s nothing that can turn that brighter

lighter

easier

thinner

crisp

instead of caught like branches.

Tearing at every try.

Some things numb it.

I didn’t know anything,
until it came

tore my insides to shreds

shriveled

the rest of me.

I watched my flesh disappear around bone and vein.

***

((First Draft. Spontaneous. Fiction, not a personal account. Might be part of a larger piece. Feedback welcome.))

First draft.

Soaring high
I realize why
I couldn’t see better
hate clouded
the stars
the moon
smiles.

Hate floats
creates a fog that dims our
reflections of one another.

We are mirrors

Mothers, fathers, sisters, wives,

ancient grandparents

dust beneath our feet

in the ground,
where we fear hell

we still want

to see the stars.

Fearing hell only gets you so far

when you should live
above the ground.

Ashes run thick in our veins

reminding us what it’s like
to soar

***

(First spontaneous draft. Haven’t looked at it. will later. Feel free to comment or critique.)