I don't want to die today,
not like this -
on I-65 with the black exhaust
of Bubba trucks making my blood congeal
on asphalt seamed with tar and white paint.
If I'm going to die,
let it be somewhere green
while a soft breeze turns the pages of my
last moments;
let it by while I'm holding my dog and whispering
my final words into his ear.
I want to say this to the cars drag-racing their
way to work this morning.
"I don't want to die here on an interstate of strangers."
But, they don't listen, even when I blare my horn
as one of them cuts me off and I miss clipping his
bumper by mere kisses of space.
You Don’t Hear Me
One’s true hell is never fear,
but is something they know they cannot stop.
It’s a reality that could never be stopped.
For some, that reality comes in the form of confrontation.
For others,
it comes in the form of someone else disproving one‘s own beliefs.
I speak not of religion or science.
I refer to the human instinct.
The human instinct that knows when something is wrong.
All of those in the mentally ill community know the feeling,
dread that feeling.
The feeling we have when we know something is wrong,
yet any professional we ask says we overreact.
“You’re overreacting, nothing is wrong. You’re fine.”
When we come in with proof the same is said,
but the looks we receive say everything.
“You’re crazy!”
“They’re faking it.”
“Attention seeker!”
I know myself better than anyone,
I know something is wrong.
Stop telling me that I’m fine.
Stop looking at me as if I’m losing my mind.
I can feel that something is wrong,
so please just listen to me.
I Need someone to Hear me.
Years later I’ll fine that something has been wrong the entire time.
Years later I’ll find that I’ve been suffering with no one and nothing to help.
Years later I’ll have a reason to hold my grudge against everyone,
everyone who called me a nut job,
everyone who looked at me with that look in their eye,
everyone.
I am not crazy.
I know myself better than anyone.
You Do Not Know Me.
Sore and Confused in a Barn, a Compact Enigma, and our Apples of Discord.
Hello, Writers and Dear Readers.
We are proud to announce our new method for picking our poison, so check the YouTube video beneath the link for our Challenge of the Week CCXXVI right after this message. In today's video, we congratulate last week's winner, who wrote a hell of a piece to take her fella out to lunch, should she decide to do so.
-Hope your long weekend means a short hangover.
https://theprose.com/challenge/14041
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tQggQwrIsPQ
And.
As Always...
Thank you for being here.
-The Prose. team