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Challenge
Tis time to return with the Wayback Machine once more. Last time it was to repost your shortest poem and then your longest poem. This time, post your Longest Prose write and the date you first posted at the very bottom.
Rules are simple, hunt down your work for the longest Prose write you have and just see if you get the same response now as you did then, or perhaps better this time around. Tag me in the comment box just like this: @Danceinsilence ... I shall decide the winner who will receive The Longfellow Prose Award. I will start this off and Happy Hunting!

Clockwork

Tik...Tok...Tik...Tok...

“You gonna do it?” I don’t bother raising my head I know who it is, or should I say what? It’s not like it matters anyway, no matter what I call them they always come without fail.

“Man she’s seriously taking a long time, I genuinely don’t know why we bother...” The second voice, all too familiar. Like twins they come in pairs, bringing destruction in their wake. Switching on and off terrorizing me like i’m their 9 to 5 and they’re gunning for employee of the month.

“Neither do i...” The words left my mouth before i realized it and the moment the click of a tongue hit my ears i could tell i had agitated the beast.

“Oh? If you’re cocky enough to snap back at me why don’t you stop holding that razor againt your wrist and slit it already?” They’re presence was always overwhelming and unappreciated so no matter what i say they’ll only belittle me for it. It’s best to just be quiet and ignore them until they pass. Is what I tell myself but, the more they point out my flaws the more i try to defend myself and the more im shot down for it. They always win and i hate it no matter how hard i fight, no matter how much my friends tell me they care, no matter how watched i am; it never seems to be enough.

I know they won’t stop till i’m dead, you know their names whether you want to or not, they’ve been carved into your brain and for some your heart. I am so tired of this endless cycle, this fear powered machine that has been in a place of power for far to long. As i slowly move the razor away from my wrist despite the fading sounds of protest a sense of relief washes over me as i lean back. By the time the razor hits the floor all of the noise that my poisionus mind had created seemingly vanished.

It felt good to throw a wrench in the cogs of a well oiled machine and i plan to do it even more as the future days come. Will things only get harder from here most definatly but how will i deal with it? Only time will tell.

1/13/2020

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