Expanding outwards through the haze. Darkness and light collide. Overthrown the heavens. Cast out the gods and apparitions of night. Slipping away into the quiet embrace of a midday college bar. Brain matter afire with anger and hate and regret. Wet my tongue with well whiskey to kill the cotton mouth of guilt. Choke down the bitter taste until the thirst is quenched and the fire subsides. And I can find myself lost in the hours of the day. Entombed by my heart. I separate my soul with drunken pity. Wallowing in the filth of loneliness I close my eyes and pretend you are here. Yet the laughter doesn't come. It's different somehow to a drunkards ears. And so I sink deeper into an ever empty glass.

Weakened knees no longer hold the weight of my shame. Frozen here in this main street bar retracing plans we never made. Lighting Marlboro Reds and watching silently as the smoke dances towards the sky. Demonic entities to harvest my eternal soul. Head in hands I laugh in the face of the Biblical Devil. There is no soul here left to steal. It's lost somewhere. Solitarily confined in the ribcage of despair.

I tap the bar and continue this binge of self pity and rage. Ice clinking against a chipped low ball glass. Drank in like the forgotten scent of you. Swallowing hard the liqour and the tears. Longing for time to surpass the years. A whiskey time warp to brighter days.

We touch I feel a rush

We clutch it isn't much

But it's enough to make me wonder what's in store for us

It's lust, it's torturous

You must be a sorceress 'cause you just

Did the impossible

Gained my trust don't play games it'll be dangerous

If you fuck me over

'Cause if I get burnt I'ma show you what it's like to hurt

'Cause I've been treated like dirt before you

And love is "evol"

Spell it backwards I'll show you

You living in a world that come with plan B

Cause plan A never relay a guarantee

And plan C never could say just what it was

And your plans only can pan around love

You love him, you love them, you love her

You love so much, you love when love hurts

You love red-bottom and gold they say queen

You love hand-bag on the waist of your jean

You love french tip and trip that pay for

You love bank slip that tell you we paid more

You love a good hand whenever the card dealt

But what love got to do with it when you don't love yourself

Greetings Prosers,

Welcome to this week’s instalment of Two for Tuesday. This week Karen has passed over two of her favourite challenges on the stream right now. So without further ado, let’s see what challenges float our design genius's boat.

My fellow Prosers, inspiration is contagious so let's contaminate each other’s ink. Here's how it will go. I will kick it off by tagging a Proser to write and then in turn she will tag another Proser to do the same. The "tagger" would assign a prompt, a topic, word/words or anything at all that would inspire the "tagged" to write about. It could be anything, any form. Anyone can join at any time even if you did not get tagged. As long as you tag someone to continue the challenge. Have fun Prosers!

https://theprose.com/challenge/3428

Karen explains: "I like the fun concept behind it, the tough prompts some of the Prosers have given their fellow Prosers and how they in turn have manage to create great writes with those constraints".

Make Profanity Beautiful

https://theprose.com/challenge/3592

Karen tells us: "I love the concept of taking something considered obscene and turning into something beautiful and I love the rawness of the writes. Check out: https://theprose.com/post/79500/an-ill-mannered-speech - how good is that?!"

So that’s your lot for this week. However, before we sign off for today don’t forget to keep on creating and entering challenges, that includes this week’s Challenge of the Week: What do your walls hear?

Until next Tuesday, Prosers,

Prose.

I'm too greedy to stay the same

And I'm in it for the kill

I won't stop until I get enough.

I'm too lusty to keep my cool

And I'm staying to feel it

I won't stop until I get enough.

I'm too proud to be what you wanted

And I'm here only for myself

I won't stop until I get enough.

I'm too angry to be lonely

And I'm locked up inside

I won't stop until I get enough.

I'm too lazy to get attached 

And I'm floating in thin air

I won't stop until I get enough.

I'm too malicious to get engaged

And I'm not thinking about you

I won't stop until I get enough.

I'm too gluttonous to be satisfied

And I'm not that perfect

I won't stop until I get enough.

Elijah elephant trumpets the blues

He’s having problems finding some shoes

If he can’t find his size, he plans to sue

He needs more than two and wants to choose

He won’t perform, so the circus sends out its crews

To find four shoes that fit and won’t bruise

But the men who raise the tents have no clues

As they go to the store and line up in queues

They search through the racks, two by two’s

Try as they might, they can’t find elephant shoes

Say follow me to the elephant who falls for their ruse

Reasoning he’ll be happier at zoo in consensus of views

Blindly, the elephant trails the crew to the zoo

Bare feet hurt so sips through trunk bottle of booze

Reasoning in his unforgettable mind, he can’t lose

Because there are lots of female elephants, he muses!

I am standing on a cement island

Cold with urine and

Speckled with rat droppings

In-between the subway tracks and

They are running really fast tonight

Boxcars on cocaine

Numb and paranoid

They move away from me

I reached for him, but...

In opposite directions, they

Speed east and west --

Southbound and northbound --

And the headlights blind me

I see a little girl asleep on the track

The unbearable sounds drive me mad

Just above the transient's moan

They choke on the soot from

The engines and cigars

And surrounded by graffiti smoke

They wander, searching for

Their hearts trapped in limbo, and

Their souls are emptied for --

Or, are they offered in exchange for --

Just take

Whatever the fuck

You can get.

Numbing the despondency

That carries their high like

Ghosts stalking the underground travelers

Sitting in the rafters on

The elevated beams made of steel

Businessmen in grey and

Businesswomen dressed like men, and

They come and they go without reason

In hysterical patterns set to

Repeat daily. And --

They dance like clowns

Desperate for amusement

And they bargain to escape

But you can hear the history

Of the passengers past --

Echoing at night

Praying for an extra stop

Under the city streets and --

We are ALL looking for peace

Hiding in darkness

Miss Kitty grew up

and so did I

still had doe eyes

and pointy ears

tickling my belly.

She’s still

my pussycat

I still play with her

but I am a man

and the conditions

have changed.

She lives with me

and sleeps in my bed.

It’s no longer platonic

with my kitty cat.

Her whiskers rub me

in my hidden places.

Her tongue is rough

and I like it that way.

Her pointed nails

scratch my

erogenous zones.

She purrs

And meows for more.

To Be Continued

they planted heather on the grave

once the earth had settled down

and the birds had eaten all

the long seeds of scattered grass

and it was grey, and it was coarse

it was home, eternally, a home

nobody knows how to clean up this mess

the puddle of person on the cool wood floor

he can't breathe, help him, lord

he can't breathe

he laughs and laughs and laughs

and nothing was ever funny to him

tracing the cracks in the ceiling because

he can't see anything else

static buzzing in his hands, his feet, his face

one day he'll vibrate right out of his mind

and he knows he's scaring everyone

he's ever loved, it doesn't help

my hands are growing like weeds

great strips of flesh not my own

they click and crack like

camera shutters, deformed

and i am floating away upon

a breeze that does not strictly exist

while they hang stagnant and limp

waiting for some puppet master

to pick up my slack strings

i know this feeling in the same way

that i know the backs of my hands

and i do not recognize these hands