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Challenge Ended
you/you'll never know unless/until...
Will select the winner with most likes because democracy doesn't work. (I'll tag the winners at #DYEY_Winners if it doesn't allow me to select a winner.) As usual, tag me @DidYouEatYet
Ended February 21, 2021 • 2 Entries • Created by DidYouEatYet
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Challenge
you/you'll never know unless/until...
Will select the winner with most likes because democracy doesn't work. (I'll tag the winners at #DYEY_Winners if it doesn't allow me to select a winner.) As usual, tag me @DidYouEatYet
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thisisit
96 reads

Published

I wasn't even allowed to drink in January because my friends and I had declared it "dry January." I was bored and sadly sober one night when I saw that a literary journal I sometimes submit to had submissions open for their March issue. Free of charge, just send the editor an email.

I wrote in my new crooked, fragmented style - something I hadn't published on Prose, because it has to be previously unpublished. I laid out my childhood and my awful ex-boyfriend like they were being hung out to dry.

I couldn't have even summarized what I had written after the fact, I had submitted it close to midnight and am usually forgetful of what I write anyway. Something about trauma, etc. etc.

7:54 a.m yesterday: an email from the editor. 'It is our pleasure to inform you...'

Wait, what?

Sipping coffee slowly, and then more quickly. This was my second submission to a publication outside of Prose since the year started.

Perhaps no one had submitted?

It feels good to be recognized, as mortified as I am that I laid my past bare, a midnight submission I had emailed for the hell of it. Now it will be spelled out to the world, trauma and my name together, separated by only a comma.

You never know until you try.

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Challenge
you/you'll never know unless/until...
Will select the winner with most likes because democracy doesn't work. (I'll tag the winners at #DYEY_Winners if it doesn't allow me to select a winner.) As usual, tag me @DidYouEatYet
Cover image for post You'll Ne'er Know until . . . 
perversion spreads its tentacles . . ., by REllyn
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REllyn
46 reads

You’ll Ne’er Know until . . . perversion spreads its tentacles . . .

Vague but haunting Vision plagues me.

Rises fore me, as It deems,

Dominates, monopolizing

All of me, hellbent, It seems.

To cede vulnerability,

Low profile I emulate.

Ne’er I’ll know the consequences

If I, shaken, hesitate.

Something horror-struck is out there

Just beyond the ken of sight.

I fear It will overtake me,

Wrapped in tentacles too tight.

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