History may not repeat itself, however, it does often rhyme.
Created problems
Reactions condign
Fate encroaches
Humanity’s decline
Useless suffrage
Purposeful design
Corruption obvious
Society supine
Political coercion
Media malign
Continued belief
Must disincline
The propaganda
We must confine
Town square
Free speech’s lifeline
Trusting government
Simply asinine
Quest for answers
Truth and lies intertwine
In vino veritas
There’s truth in wine
Where It Hurts
Your hands are often too rough. The skin at the edges of your nail beds is peeled back and hardened and has, on occasion, been known to bleed without warning. If I run my thumb along the inside of your palm, I know exactly where it will catch on raised callouses. And even when I’m alone, I can feel the spot where your fingers would rest in the webbing of my own. My skin is electric shocks at the thought of the places where your fingertips most often linger. Nerve endings, attention-wrought. Breath, hitched in tightrope suspension. And I can count your freckles without you in the room. I could draw a map of your skeleton from memory. Place each rib in its exact location. Carve the precise depth of your clavicle. I know the pattern your teeth leave on each of my hips and how your tongue feels restless against my own. My neck can recall each spot where your lips chap and how often your front teeth push past them. I am violently aware of the spots where your hair refuses to lie against your scalp and instead reaches skyward. The sighs and stutters that litter your speech patterns. I can feel the sharp intake of your breath when my teeth close just a bit too hard on your frame. And that slight leak of CO2 in nighttime stillness. I sleep, dizzy in your exhales as they fill up my inhales. I would swear I have been constructed from the realization of the space that you fill in relation to all of the emptiness I leave behind. And you forgot the color of my eyes.
*this piece is from my newest collection baby, sweetheart, honey coming in January and available wherever books are sold.
Mint Lip Gloss
My Grandma gave me cosmetics for the holidays.
I loved my Grandma, and I shouldn't have been surprised considering we only see her once a year. I didn't hate wearing makeup, I was usually just too lazy to put it on.
Grandma did not skimp out that year. She got me a full (and possibly slightly expensive) bag for everything, despite not being able to fit it all, packed to the brim with eye shadow, blush, hair care, and a small container of mint lip gloss.
Because I didn't want it to just rot away in my room, I took a few minutes in the mornings before school to put on some eye shadow and lip gloss. Honestly, I thought it makes me feel more awake, just poking my eye with colors at 6:30 in the morning.
My friends noticed it, of course, because I only ever put on makeup for Halloween or special occasions.
On a day I had gray eye shadow on, my friend said to me "I like your makeup Jill! Wait are you wearing makeup or are you just tired?", which, although a fair statement, is not one I appreciate.
My life didn't rapidly change or anything, just sometimes received a comment from friends about not looking like a walking corpse.
But it was different in mid-February when a girl I had never spoken to came up to me.
"Mint?" She smiled as if she asked me something comprehensible.
I eloquently responded with, "Huh?", as one does.
She laughed and tapped her lips. "Mint lip gloss, right?"
"Yeah," I was shocked. By this time of day, all traces of it had usually vanished. "How'd you know?"
"Oh, you know." She waved it off. "Hey, you're in my math class, right? Did you understand Mr. Thompson's homework?"
Her name was Sally, and we started talking after that. She would find me at lunch, or whenever we had free time in math, and just start talking to me. It was a bit off-putting at first, but after three weeks I had gotten used to her presence.
The still cold March weather was getting to be one day, and I was shivering despite having on a thick sweater. Probably because they didn't bother heating the cafeteria.
"Hey, Jill!" Sally was suddenly next to me. The first few times she did that, it startled me, but I was expecting it.
"Hey, what's up?"
"Just really bored today." She sighed and laid her chin down on the table. "Do you want to come over today after school or something?"
I shrugged. I had nothing going on, and I had to admit I was curious about Sally's house. "As long as you have heating, I'm in."
She perked up. "Great! I can drive us there right after school if you're fine with that."
At 2:43, we were in her driveway. I remember the time so clearly because my mom texted me then if I needed anything from the store. I forgot to text her back.
Sally pulled out a key a opened the door, pushing me inside.
Her house was strange. Not like 'covered in blood and guts' strange, but it threw me off how fake everything looked. Like a house, you would see in a commercial for insurance.
"Just throw your bag anywhere, and make yourself comfortable! Do you want hot chocolate or tea?"
I sat down on the couch. It was stiff. "Hot chocolate."
She nodded and walked into the kitchen. Sally couldn't have been gone for more than seven minutes, but it felt like I sat there for hours. There was no noise from anywhere in the house, except for my own occasional breathing.
She walked back in with two mugs and handed me one before sitting next to me.
"I assumed you would be alright with whipped cream and sprinkles on it."
"Of course. I'll never say no to sweets." I laughed but felt weird having a tall sugar-filled cup while her mug looked so plain. I took a sip, and it wasn't as sweeter as I expected, tasting more bitter than anything.
"Do you want to work on homework or something? I'll help you with math if you help me with history."
Sally grinned and stood up. I had never seen her smile that wide. "Yeah," She set her mug on the coffee table. "Let's go up to my room."
I only had gotten halfway through my drink, but I couldn't say anything about it, because as soon as I had risen, I fell straight to the floor, shattering the mug.
"Oops." I could only hear her. My head couldn't move from the floor. "I was hoping you would set the mug down before the effects took place." Despite not having any recently, I swore that I tasted the strong after taste of almonds in my mouth.
Fingers grasped my chin and lifted up my throbbing head. Sally was blurry but clear as she kneeled in front of me, barely avoiding the spilled drink and shards.
She ran a finger over my lips and sighed. "Aw, I guess your mint lip gloss was rubbed off."
CotM vid, new Challenge, and More!
Hello, Writers and Dear Readers...
Just below is the link for the new YouTube video announcing the winner of last month's challenge, announing the next one and going into it a bit, and our usual smattering of highlights from our talent. Really loved making this one today, and also jazzed about the new challenge. All mentioned writers in the video will be tagged in the comments.
The winner of last month's challenge is dctezcan, congrats!!!!
All of the entries were good, though, but dctezcan edged it out at the very last minute. It was actually a good position to be in, to have to labor over who had the post worth a C-note.
Here's the link for the video, and make sure to watch it for the other writers in mention, namely the poem, The Black Moon's Shine, by miss_em, as well as going into a couple of more reasons for liking more of our talent. The words just keep getting better on this platform.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LpC2HmG2o4U
And......... As always.......
Thank you for being here.
-The Prose. team
I Just Want to Tell
I'm a smile ready to burst,
A flower ready to bud.
But nobody even asks,
Why I'm jumping on my toes,
Trying not to squeal,
Tapping the excitement out of my fingers,
Or twisting my hair into incurable knots.
I want to shout my happiness to the world,
But nobody asks,
They're too busy,
Posting pictures of themselves on the internet,
Ignoring reality,
Breezing through life without a care.