Down the darkening alley

Lives Suck 'Em Off Sally

Her pimp, and a gimp

Called Micky O'Malley

They rent an old shack

By the railroad track

Sally and O'Malley

Have a liking for crack

Her pimp's got the money

Keeps her sweet as honey

When she's hot, Micky's got

A cure for her cunny

She's soft downstairs

So they enter in pairs

And some in the bum

Where there aren't any hairs

Pimp likes to watch

It warms up his crotch

Thanks for the wanks

Then drowns in cheap scotch

Sally got coke

From a prick of a bloke

She fucks for the bucks

Like a pig in a poke

This mess could be you

It could be me too

Sleaze comes with ease

From green to deep blue

Thank god you don't know

Where the dark alleys go

You can guess; but confess

It doesn't half blow...

Starlit expanse

Gate to infinity

To be here by chance

Expecting fluidity

Born of a mortal

Divine by design

Step through the portal

Experience sublime

Mysteries exposed

Knowledge to churning

Physically transposed

Never returning...

i see you every day

but you don't look my way

perhaps that's for the best

you're better than the rest

manyothers board the train

for their daily dose of pain

several look a little hot

but they're all cunts, and you are not

i saw you months ago

but of course, you didn't know

what you made me feel inside

would make your eyeballs openwide

and as you shift your seat

i dream of when we'll meet

and of all the things i'd do

so let me walk you through

i'd sit with you and chat

upon this and about that

i'd gain your confidence

with a slew of compliments

later on, we'd disembark

noone sees, it's ratherdark

and when the moment's right

i'd make all sense take flight

please don't think it strange

that i'd like to rearrange

all the beauty that you keep

on a nightstand while you sleep

trowelled on like so much shit

i'd take it off with mottled spit

and of course, you'd wear a frown

i'd turn that fucker upsidedown

then i'd rip away your hair

nopoint screaming, i don't care

i'd fuck that which leaves a scar

it's my favourite coup de grâce

if you could, you'd call me killer

a serial blood spiller

but you'd stay still instead

because i took your prettyhead

then i snap back to the room

and its shit commuter gloom

there you are, your usual seat

only this time our eyes meet

you flash a scarlet smile at me

fuckinghell you've set it free

and to myself, with antisorrow

i whisper, 'this time tomorrow...'

Pardon me for being so plain, but plainly speaking, said plainness, painfully, is such by virtue of being default. So you see it isn't my fault for appreciating the essence of this symbolic set's aesthetic aura. Orally I prefer circles and squiggles and curves and spirals but textually, I prefer squares and arrows and lines and more lines. I prefer a good suit and tie to sweatpants and a t-shirt even though I'm hypocritically wearing the latter now.

Dark matter takes up time and space

It seems to have a very definite place

It may be the remaining mystery to discover

That humans with finite minds have yet to recover

It's the scaffolding of the cosmos it is surmised

When they find it the actual role will come as a surprise

The same things could be said of dark energy

Between dark energy and dark matter there's no synergy

That's a blanket statement to put forth

Because nothing is known about either of course

his memory

echoes through

my hollow chest,

reminds me of

the emptiness

we used to share together-

killing ourselves with each other-

you were one of my kind

the words

used to fill my head-

you slitting all my precious lines

me begging you to sip the blood

i bled

i can picture you calling me

those words again-

pretentious cynic-

but still i let you in

i didn't mind

a motherfucking

catcher in the rye,

i could never

keep my eyes off you anyway

radiohead

carved into my veins

remember when i tried to memorize the lines just to

keep you sane?

these hands

just wanted to be yours

i would've ripped my skin if it meant you would've let me in-

opened all your doors

picked my heart up off the floor

fucked me in the corridor

filled me to my very core-

i would've let you be my god

even though you tried to convince me

you weren't heaven

denied me three times

but i still tried to get in

tell me

if that isn't proof

what the fuck

did i have to do

to make myself clear?

Jessica Wright has wanted nothing more than to be a writer. For years, she worked extremely hard, doing grunt jobs at small tv stations and local newspapers. She'd been working on the same novel for almost four years, sending it out to publisher after publisher. It was only when she began to give up on herself, that someone took a chance on her and her skill.

Three years later and she's one of the best selling authors of her time. Life is good. She works with people she's come to call friends, she's in a stable and loving relationship and she's on the verge of releasing her newest novel. But then, weird things start to happen.

Bodies of women begin turning up all throughout the city of Brentwood. She pays it no mind, though she's been having really weird dreams about her girlfriend being killed in all sorts of ways. Frank Albane, the Chief of Police and current father figure to Jessica, takes his job seriously and vows to put an end to the murders, along with Daniella Santiago, who just happens to be the lead prosecutor and the girlfriend of Jessica Wright.

While working the case, the Chief starts to notice little things, minuscule things that no one else could ever catch on to. He works endlessly alongside Daniella to bring this case to a close and catch their unsub.

When the last victim get away, she immediately calls the Brentwood PD and the message is relayed to Chief Albane. He takes it upon himself to question her and that's when he realizes why things seem so familiar...he's seen this before. Back in the station, he mulls over the evidence, spending countless house piecing things together until a light bulb clicks: he knows this because he's read it. And he read it in Jessica's first draft of her very first novel.

When he brings Jessica and Daniella up to speed, Jessica shuts down. Her entire world begins to fall apart. With Daniella having worked day in and day out on the case, Jessica turns her attention elsewhere and accepts a dinner invite from Christina James, her assistant. As they are enjoying the night, Christina begins to say the right things at the right times and one thing leads to another until they are interrupted and Jessica realizes the mistake she's just made. Now, she has to fight to bring herself back, fight for her relationship and fight for her innocence because how could one person know something that you've only shown to a handful of people? There are murders happening that mimic her very own writing. She's become the number one suspect.

Fighting for all that she's lost, Jessica has to step out of her very comfortable life and step into the world of a killer; a person who has become hellbent on ruining everything she's built for herself. And soon, those dreams become a reality when she's told that the latest of the unsub's victims is Daniella. Scared out of her mind, she runs to Chief Albane, who tries to reason with her and when that fails, he agrees to let her go through with the plan. With all the bravery she has in her, she steps out of her cookie-cutter life and into the unknown and vows to make it out alive.

Greetings, seasoned Prosers and newcomers:

For those of you that aren’t aware, each month we launch a new writing challenge which results in an e-book. The works within the collection are submitted by members of the community and carefully selected for publication by our editorial staff.

This month’s challenge is centered on relationships and can be found at theprose.com/challenge/2448. If you’d like to take advantage of this unique opportunity, please consider the following suggestions before submitting your entry:

- Give your piece a title.

- Be sure to thoroughly proofread and edit your work before posting.

- Any extraneous text or commentary (such as an author’s note) for purposes of meeting or exceeding the word limit set forth in the challenge will not be published.

- Based on the restrictions of the publishing channels we use, previously published works will not be considered.

Other than that, anything goes.

Be bold, be creative, be yourself, and Prose will support you every step of the way.

Last month we invited the entire community to share their thoughts on religion and politics. To describe this collection of works, we turn now to resident Proser @EBJohnson, whose blurb below is featured as the official back copy for the paperback book:

“Man.

“Since the start of time, man has looked up at the sky with abject curiosity and wonderment, seeking validation for his existence and looking to discover the intricate and secret inner workings of the universe.

“In our searches, we have found ourselves toe to toe against some of the most important issues in life. Who made us? Why are we here? How do we take this planet, and the people that inhabit it, and make a strong, lasting cooperative society that benefits and protects all is precious people, flora and fauna; creating a civilization that lasts beyond the passing of time?

“These issues, namely the issues of religion and politics, are inspected in this volume from @Prose. Every facet of our ideologies - from battles against the Almighty, to the intricacies of modern American politics and government - all the biggest issues of our time, are put to the question and to the test in this anthology.

“Come along, on a journey that will threaten to shake the very foundations of your reality, forcing you to stand, judge and jury, as our very beliefs take the stand. Through these poems, prose and essays, we will explore those topics that most ensnare and enthrall us, intrigue and ignite us. Through these words, perhaps, we will begin to find the meaning of it all and, thus, the meaning of ourselves.”

Without further ado, it is our pleasure to announce that Volume III of The Prose Anthologies is now available on Amazon for Kindle. In addition to the digital download, you can also purchase a paperback version through CreateSpace (look for related links in the comments below).

If longer works are more your style, we’d like to remind you about the #ProsePitch challenge—a chance for you to pitch us your ideas for a novel. The top entries will be selected as candidates for a fully-customized publishing package to include editing, book cover design, and marketing materials: everything you need to launch your book.

For more information please visit our recent blog post (http://blog.theprose.com/2015/09/publishing-and-more/) and submit your entry here: theprose.com/challenge/2444. We will announce the winner(s) no later than December 1, 2015 with the goal of releasing your novel next spring.

Questions? Comments? Suggestions? Drop us a line anytime in a private message or directly by email via https://theprose.com/p/contact.

your promises were what made me full

full of love

full of joy

full of you

then there came a time

were you broke them

you broke

my love

my joy

and me