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Candy878
A female, not young. Nor old. A soul searching through space and time for my place. Yearning for the acceptance accomplishment brings. My
10 Posts • 17 Followers • 2 Following
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The end is near
Poetry or prose.
ErJo1122

Purveyors Of Death

The shot rips through his midsection. He holds the wound and when he takes his hands off, the blood is dark. Dark means death. The bullet is lodged in a major organ. The world becomes a haze. He’s only nineteen years old. Not even old enough to have a beer.

Artillery fire rips through the air. He can hear voices. Screams of, “MEDIC!” “MEDIC!” “WHERE THE FUCK IS THE MEDIC?”

Blood begins to fill in his lungs. And it’s now coming out of his mouth and sliding down his cheek, mixing with the dirt and the sweat, and the pus. He coughs. Breathing is getting harder. He stares up at the black sky, and thinks about home. A small town in the middle of nowhere.

He’s driving his old man’s Ford with Jenny who is nestled tightly on his chest. His arm is wrapped around hers. He’s 17. The war doesn't feel real to him. They’re going camping in the hills for the weekend. He’s going to lose his virginity and sleep underneath the stars.

“MEDIC! MEDIC! CHRIST WE NEED A MEDIC! STAY WITH US, CHUCK. STAY WITH US”

There’s no glory in war, he thinks. It isn’t a movie. It isn’t about bravery or cowardice or being a man. It’s about choices. Which, in the jungle, there aren’t many. There are orders and there are court martials. They knew this hill was a death trap. They’d said so many times. But no one listened. They told them to keep pushing ahead. The enemy was going to be stomped out.

Days without food. Days without resupply. Jungle rot all over their skin. Dry heaving, because there wasn’t anything in their stomach to throw up. The weight of the rucksacks on starved boys trudging up hills to their death.

75 lbs. 800 bullets. 2 canteens. 5-hand grenades. A 38 caliber pistol. A M-16 machine gun. An M-79 grenade launcher. Toiletries. Fatigues. And a blanket.

And now he was going to die on this hill. Die on this hill because Generals looking at maps and drinking warm whiskey, thought of a plan. Red-faced politicians screamed “Glory Hallelujah” as they thought about commendations for a brilliant kill count ratio.

But death couldn’t be seen on a map. Death couldn’t be seen within the glasses of warm brown liquor. Death couldn’t be seen in conversations of tactics, and firepower. Death couldn’t be seen in safe zones far from battle. Death could only be seen around advancing or retreating soldiers.

The screams fade into eternity, and he’s swept into the black.

Death can not be seen by the dead.

Challenge
The Comforter
(: Comfort someone who doesn't feel well in a micro poem. Fifty words or less. Best decided by most hearts, no need to tag, unless you want to, I will comment. Thank you in advance :)
Profile avatar image for brkbillst42
brkbillst42 in Micropoetry

Fill in the Blank

How to avoid

cheesy words said too often?

What is it you want to hear?

I'm not here to cause pain.

I'm here if you want me to be.

If you wish for a prayer,

I pray it

A song:

I sing it

Words:

Said

Love:

Given

Okay?

Challenge
Flash Fiction Friday # 8: The Hunt
Yup "Triple F Challenge" is here. Now let's get it! You have one day to write and enter a flash fiction story based on the topic above, "The Hunt." Now write your ass off. 500 words Max! I'll pick the winner over the weekend. Please tag me, @ChrisSadhill in the comments. I'll read and respond to every piece. Absolutely NO AI WRITING ALLOWED. Must be Prose, but All genres are welcome. Happy Writing!
Profile avatar image for Marshadow
Marshadow in Flash Fiction

The Wendigo’s Prey

The forest is so quiet but my heart is hammering. I can see my breath as clear as the snow, I pant gasping for air. I need to catch my breath. I quickly turn a corner and slam my back against a tree. Some snow falls from its branches above me. How long have I been running for? It feels like hours. I can't even think straight with this insatiable hunger. God, what do I do? I don’t even know where it came from. Or for that matter, what it is. All I can do is replay the scene in my head again and again.

Watching it from afar. It ripped him up barbarically desecrating chunks out of a corpse that now resembled nothing of a man but a bloody pile. Blood like wine dripped from its face, staining it, as it devoured an arm. I needed to run but I couldn’t move. I stood eyes unwavering. The stench might have made me question my sobriety if I wasn’t already so high on adrenaline. It shred off some other cadaver, ready to stuff it into its face, then stopped. It stopped, not moving at all. Suddenly it snapped its head my way. It had no eyes but it looked straight at me. That’s when I began to run. I ran and ran, feet stumbling through the heavy snow. I never looked back but the picture was still fresh in my mind, a tall humanoid figure hunched over. It’s skin, rotten and thin, if any at all. Its long slender arms hung by its feet carrying massive claws that would rip me to bits in seconds. Its back, mostly covered in decaying fur, did nothing to hide its tremendous rib cage filled with ice. But the image I would never forget; its head was but a deer skull., its antlers like branches, rigid and pale, a skull full of cracks and holes. Empty.

Now I’m in the middle of the forest, lost and starving. I’d eat just about anything right now. I pause, wait, where did it go? There’s no way I lost it. Another pause. My eyes widen as I realize, the stench is still there. In fact it’s stronger than ever. As if I’m in it, but that can’t be possible. Itd surely have wolfed me down by now if it were near. I slowly take a small step and look around carefully. I falter as something catches my eye. It’s tracks. In the snow. It’s here. I quickly start to jog away still with much caution. As I speed up, my leg gets caught on a branch and I’m thrown to the ground. I land hard on some ice, that'll surely leave a mark. There’s no time. It's here. I’m quick to my feet but… in the ice. It’s there. In the reflection. Its skull looking back at me. Empty.

Challenge
The Comforter
(: Comfort someone who doesn't feel well in a micro poem. Fifty words or less. Best decided by most hearts, no need to tag, unless you want to, I will comment. Thank you in advance :)
Profile avatar image for xThe_Mild_Onex
xThe_Mild_Onex in Micropoetry

Hidden Truth

Do listen to what I think of you

You whose soul I long know

Know you’re worth every breath in you

You have been chastised for all you are

Are in truth a star shining beautifully

Beautifully unique, yet untimely made

Made to suffer Man’s indifferent ways

Challenge
The Comforter
(: Comfort someone who doesn't feel well in a micro poem. Fifty words or less. Best decided by most hearts, no need to tag, unless you want to, I will comment. Thank you in advance :)
Profile avatar image for Seraphina012251
Seraphina012251 in Micropoetry

7-Cups imaginary example of my life as a listener.

So they are calling you names,

pushing you down,

telling you, you will be the worst,

causing self-doubt.

How does this make you feel?

Do you think there is something else contributing to those feelings?

Is this stress because you are afraid of failing?

So self doubt?

Thank you.

Challenge
The Comforter
(: Comfort someone who doesn't feel well in a micro poem. Fifty words or less. Best decided by most hearts, no need to tag, unless you want to, I will comment. Thank you in advance :)
Profile avatar image for DeAnn
DeAnn in Micropoetry

Ready

You don't need my words.

You don't want them, either.

I get it.

So, I'll just sit with you,

arm against arm,

leg against leg,

and wait for you to be ready

to accept the love I have to offer you.

Because I'll always wait for you.

Challenge
Flash Fiction Friday # 8: The Hunt
Yup "Triple F Challenge" is here. Now let's get it! You have one day to write and enter a flash fiction story based on the topic above, "The Hunt." Now write your ass off. 500 words Max! I'll pick the winner over the weekend. Please tag me, @ChrisSadhill in the comments. I'll read and respond to every piece. Absolutely NO AI WRITING ALLOWED. Must be Prose, but All genres are welcome. Happy Writing!
Profile avatar image for GerardDiLeo
GerardDiLeo in Flash Fiction

Business As Usual

I want what you have

You have what I want

It's a formula for trouble brewing

Calligraphic summons, graphic font

I like what you do

You do what I like

It's a formula for rage imbuing

And usurpation when I strike

Don't look for me a'coming

You won't see me but feel the brunt

You'll wonder what I'm doing

You are the feckless I hunt

The world is full of hunters who see

In a blinded world of clueless prey

The fittest will survive the chewing

The eaters live another day

Challenge
The Comforter
(: Comfort someone who doesn't feel well in a micro poem. Fifty words or less. Best decided by most hearts, no need to tag, unless you want to, I will comment. Thank you in advance :)
Profile avatar image for GerardDiLeo
GerardDiLeo in Micropoetry

End-of-the-Day Reward

Clean sheets

Thread count hundreds

Freshly laundered

Gently

Lying within

Just scrubbed clean

Naked

With someone else

Challenge
The Comforter
(: Comfort someone who doesn't feel well in a micro poem. Fifty words or less. Best decided by most hearts, no need to tag, unless you want to, I will comment. Thank you in advance :)
Profile avatar image for KarenKitchel
KarenKitchel in Micropoetry

Of all the people

Of all the people who have ever been brought into this world, you are unique. There never has been and never will be anyone exactly like you. Always remember how special you are!

Challenge
The Comforter
(: Comfort someone who doesn't feel well in a micro poem. Fifty words or less. Best decided by most hearts, no need to tag, unless you want to, I will comment. Thank you in advance :)
Profile avatar image for 7v7
7v7 in Micropoetry

A Warm Compress

There's a hand

that maps

the small

of the back

to the shoulder blades

and rests between

your heartbeat

and mine

pressed

12.1.2023

The Comforter micro challenge @Last

I am 21 years or older.