Writing Prompts for the Mentally Deranged and Linguistically Addicted

TEN

I don't care.

Three words that I never wanted to hear. But it's everywhere now. In the way your body slouches back on the worn leather chair. In the sound of your exhale when I try to speak up for myself. In the scent of your smoke that permeates the humid heavy air as I sit here alone on the couch, writing this.

I know you think I'm a timid fly, that buzzes only when it's shooed away. And I know that you wish to be that too. Settled. Mindless. Content. Living only to die.

But I will never be that. Because even if you have resigned yourself to it, you are only a ghost of it, a poor actor. Exhaustion masks sorrow masks terror masks wails--and the blood-curdling hair-tearing scream of why.

And you have become death before Death has come. Because you will not ask it.

I am ready to ask it, Keith.

Goodbye.

Challenge: For some reason I want to take this in a different direction then fiction... so if you're brave enough, write a letter about something you would be scared to say to someone in person that you know. You don't have to give it to them, but write out the truth. Then you decide what to do with it. 

Go.