The flesh that still binds me 

     is no longer his host

Sometimes I wonder 

    which of us is the ghost

His spirit is free 

    of the physical realm

In life I don't feel like 

    I'm still at the healm

Just out of reach 

    he lingers there

Sometimes it feels like 

    he plays with my hair

This big house used to 

    give me a fright

But now I look forward 

    to the creaking at night

If the noises I hear 

    are not caused by wind

I fall safely to sleep 

    knowing 

       it's 

          only him

Sometimes he gathers 

    up enough power

To remain visible 

    to me for an hour

I spend those precious 

    moments of time

Pretending to feel how 

    he used to be mine

He talks to me 

    when I really listen

But he stops when he sees 

    the tears start to glisten

It's usually always 

    the same message I hear

I need to forget him, 

    it's been a year

If I forget him 

    he says he'll be free

To move on to whatever 

    is next 

       without 

              me

I know it's selfish and 

    I know he knows

That I will be nothing 

    if he ever goes

When I break down 

    and cry in despair

I feel his fingers 

    run through my hair

I need him to be there 

    when I lose my mind

If not, I know I won't 

    come back next time

He's getting stronger 

    and he gave me a wish

Last night I was able 

    to again feel his kiss

I know he can't always 

    stay here with me

Sometimes I think I should 

    claim 

        death's 

             decree

Take my own life, 

    I don't need it any more

Just to be with him, 

    invite death to my door

When these thoughts come 

    crowding into my head

He always appears with 

    his face turning red

He burns with an anger 

    he never showed in life

It keeps growing hotter 

    til I drop the knife

He believes I should embrace 

    all that is left

Of a life that no longer 

    feels like a gift

I suppose I really should 

    release him from me

Let him move on and 

    leave me here empty

I know that when 

    I do let him go

My heart will bleed 

    and I won't 

       stop

          the flow.

The Orange Man cometh

to grope our parts,

and snatch our dignity.

Vomit his indignities.

Sabotage our freedoms.

Bludgeoning harmony.

RICHARD

I couldn’t understand why I felt such intense pain which radiated all over my body. I was on my honeymoon in the marital bed with the woman of my dreams. I gasped as I looked up and saw a pink satin appendage hanging from the chandelier, dripping what appeared to be wine onto the carpet. In horror, I looked down at myself and saw that the treasure of my manhood was missing leaving my nether regions soaked with crimson blood. My new wife was screaming at the top of her lungs as she pointed at what had been my pride and joy. All of a sudden, the blush colored member began to spin around the room, alighting first on the curtain rods and then on the picture frames. It seemed to be doing a wild tango of passion as it twirled and danced in wild abandon. I struggled to get to my feet to try to catch it but collapsed on the floor in anguish.

TABITHA, THE POLTERGEIST

I am no longer alive. Richard (or Dick which is more appropriate) strangled me with his bare hands, squeezing the last gasps of my breath. He had dumped me for someone else in this most unseemly way! My physical being had transformed into a poltergeist. I became invisible which is advantageous because I can wreak havoc without being seen. I heard that little Dickie was marrying that bitch, Jennifer, and was planning a lavish honeymoon starting at the honeymoon suite at the Waldorf. Oh, I would get back at him in my own special way. I slipped surreptitiously into the hotel room and began to watch the sexual antics begin with Dickie and Little Miss Puss Face. I decided to join in and take part in their escapades. As she kissed his mouth, I began nibbling lower down. “Oh, Oh,” he moaned in abandon. “You’ve never done this before, Jenny. More, more!”

JENNIFER

“What are you talking about, Richard?” I laughed. “You know that I never do that!” You’re imagining things because you’re so excited feeling my tongue go in your mouth!”

RICHARD

“Whatever you’re doing, keep it up,” I begged. Up was definitely where I wanted it to be!

TABITHA, THE POLTERGEIST

I began nibbling around the edges, licking with my tongue. He was so excited thinking that I was Jennifer. And I began to get aroused also. I was so inflamed with sensuality that my teeth got in the way of my tongue and I chomped down hard. Imagine my surprise when I realized that I had bitten it clean off! I spit the bloody mess out on the sheets and then scooped it up and began flying around the suite, lighting on all the surfaces, throwing it in the air as if I was juggling it. What a fun toy it was and what an expression Little Dickie had on his face! Whenever he neared his dangling genitalia, I snatched it up and moved it to a new area. “It serves you right,” I yelled as loudly as I could but he could not hear me.

RICHARD

I’ve just got to latch on to it. If I don’t capture it, I won’t be able to have the surgeons reattach it. But I am feeling so faint! I’ll try one more time.

JENNIFER

I’m leaving you. I didn’t bargain for a dickless man. My Mom warned me about you.

TABITHA, THE POLTERGEIST

I knew that bitch wouldn’t give him what I did! I swooped up and down one more time before I swept into the bathroom and dropped my prized trophy down the toilet and flushed. I smiled broadly to myself as I realized my ultimate payback. Little Dickie shouldn’t have messed with me!

Hi, Prosers!

Around a month ago, we crowned @Fauxhero as our Proser of the Month (PotM), which was introduced as a way to celebrate the talents and contributions of the community.

Our next Proser of the Month is someone who has been a wonderful member of our community, always providing support to his fellow Prosers. He joined our lovely community and ever since has been one of the most supportive and welcoming Prosers here. Pair that up with his writing prowess, how could we not?

Your Proser of the Month this month is @James! Congratulations, this is absolutely deserved. You rock!

What does this even mean? Well, firstly, it gives you bragging rights. It also gives you a beautiful PDF version of our favourite piece of yours, voted by the team. We will send you this via email. Print it, frame it, hang it. It’s yours to do with what you will. The piece that we have chosen to showcase is, “War.”

Across our social media each week we will be sharing your profile and prose to our followers. We believe that it’s important to show the world what talent you have, the journey you have been on, and the growth that you have made as a writer.

Karen, our super talented designer, has made a video of your piece, which is available to watch now on our YouTube channel. (We will embed the link in this piece.) We will share this across our social media channels, and we hope that all Prosers will too!

We couldn’t be more proud to have you as a part of the community, a community that we know will join in with congratulating you on this achievement. Thank you for sticking around, thank you for being an integral part of Prose.

Until next time, Prosers, keep doing what you do. Write.

Prose.

We are equally the same...

We have head and heart;

we think and feel differently.

We have flesh and bones;

we are many colors and sizes.

     ...We are equally different.

Eyes of blue filled with lust…

Oh, how I beg you ~ Oh, if you must!

Legs long and lanky, toes barely touching the floor…

Oh, how I beg you ~ Oh, give me some more!

Hands of strength filled with flesh…

Oh, how I beg you ~ Oh, Bangladesh!!

Head filled with knowledge and full of advice…

Oh, how I beg you ~ Oh, get me some ice!!!

I hear Death treading closer

blasphemy of white herons

stabbing of piercing icicles

weighing me down.

I fall on my knees

dying a little every day

under the drunken moon.

Death has no face,

reflections

in my broken mirror.

Whistling, he waits

to inhale the spirit

of who I am.

I grasp my thoughts,

ricocheting in my corner.

Diabolically he walks

through windblown chasm.

Embryonic, I curl

tormented by his steps

pounding subconscious

can’t grasp reality.

I crawl toward

the brilliant light,

lost and frozen,

awareness dawning

that Death

is an impersonator.

I will not embrace

eternity today.