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Challenge Ended
Write about imprisonment of any kind for a chance to be featured on the next episode of The Prosecast.
Ended April 20, 2015 • 21 Entries • Created by Prose
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Challenge
Write about imprisonment of any kind for a chance to be featured on the next episode of The Prosecast.
Cover image for post Don't abandon me, by Lsu11
Profile avatar image for Lsu11
Lsu11

Don’t abandon me

Please don't leave me

I'm not sure what I've done

But

I'll be better now

I promise

Please

You are my family

I don't understand

Why would you leave me

Was it for tormenting the cat

I will stop

You must know that

Or maybe it was all toys

That I destroyed

I'll be more gentle

I'll make them last

Just forgive me

And come back

I am sorry for all the times

I accidentally peed

I didn't mean to

I'm just so young

Please take me home

I will be good

Can't you hear me

As I cry

Won't you at least turn around

And say goodbye?

Challenge
Write about imprisonment of any kind for a chance to be featured on the next episode of The Prosecast.
Cover image for post And beneath my skin., by JeffStewart
Profile avatar image for JeffStewart
JeffStewart

And beneath my skin.

I have to remain hopeful. I have to know I will see the first day of summer outside of this place, reflecting from your ghost eyes to mine. As much as I know I will never be free again, I have to try for you. I can’t put it out of my head, I can’t put you out of my head. Because you are in my head, my heart, my blood and bones. And beneath my skin and tissue and matter, you are also in my energy, in the water of me. The energy that holds me together is half you. We are constantly moving, Helena, and I am constantly yours. My fascination for you keeps me together, even with the feeling of terror here, in this place. It’s all ebb with no flow, the sand is covered and eaten by the air, by receding dead water, bilge and brine and sewage. Dark, rotted blood and piranha teeth that devour the beach, and where the beach may finally stop, where the water loses power, is a solid steel black wall, with only large chunks of dead time to take it away. I reach to feel the light there, peeking through cracks made by you, unseen by the naked eye. Sunlight warming death, the end of sleepless want, of fear. You and I know these fears, Helena. They climb upon me where I live, and we destroy them breath by breath, knowing our time together will hold fast against this garbage, this piece of fleeting cosmic garbage.

Challenge
Write about imprisonment of any kind for a chance to be featured on the next episode of The Prosecast.
Profile avatar image for MaybeTomorrow
MaybeTomorrow

Worth.

I've heard the jokes.

An Asian woman in a white-washed country,

they ask me how disappointed my parents were,

if I "brought shame upon my famiry"

if they tried to lose me in an alley,

or down a flight of stairs.

"That's the Chinese," I answer meekly,

though I'd like to both ignore them

and lose them down the stairs,

"who only want sons.

Women are worth a lot

in my culture."

I enjoy the surprise,

the occasional murmurs of approval.

What I don't say,

is that women are worth more

the way gold is worth more than silver.

When I was young,

a woman was beaten for being caught

smiling to a man

who was not her cheating husband.

He left her, shamed and broken,

and my mother told me

not to laugh too loudly,

or stand too proudly,

and to never be friends with boys.

As women,

we are not women.

We are daughters, wives,

mothers,

like livestock, already fated,

born to be sold, born to be bred,

born to live and die,

for family.

Challenge
Write about imprisonment of any kind for a chance to be featured on the next episode of The Prosecast.
Cover image for post real men smoke, by Yowwa
Profile avatar image for Yowwa
Yowwa

real men smoke

i'm a grown man

trapped inside the expectation

of what a grown man is

a big boy

i can handle myself

don't take no fucking shit

seven o'clock shadow

scuffed boots that say

you fucking want some?

but I ain't done growin'

and I want my mom

damn what you think you see

been acting all my life

growed into the part

but I fucking hate the lie

real men don't eat quiche

real men smoke marlboro

but I don't smoke

Challenge
Write about imprisonment of any kind for a chance to be featured on the next episode of The Prosecast.
Profile avatar image for E
E

Fear

Imprisoned and sheathed in complete blackness

With closed eyes,

blocking everything in the surrounding,

waiting for that final fall

But it doesn't come--

You're trying hard to hold on to it

Yet knowing that

behind closed eyelids

There's a kaleidoscope world waiting to welcome you

But the fear controls you

Because somehow you know that

happiness comes with sadness

Like

black and white

rain and sunshine

Heaven and hell

Love and hate

Everything is relative

Then you realized you

have landed --

the land of your life

Your heart still pumps

Though broken

It still works

And you're left with the decision

To just open your eyes

and dive into the colors of life

And just wait--

For the blackness to fall again.

Challenge
Write about imprisonment of any kind for a chance to be featured on the next episode of The Prosecast.
Profile avatar image for Jesuisamanda
Jesuisamanda

girl

get up on time.

shower, do your hair

up the way they like,

put on that dress

that hugs your body

right where they

want it to.

put on your makeup,

paint on a smile.

it makes you

prettier.

don't panic when they

holler and whistle and

stare right through your

clothes,

it happens all the time.

keep walking,

and when he comments on

your body, you should say

thank you

because that's kind and

considerate of him.

get to work,

do your job well and

look good doing it.

eat a salad for lunch

because you need to lose

10 more pounds

and bikini season is

right around the corner.

come home to a

house full of expensive furniture

you bought with your

Christmas bonus,

you know,

the one your boss offers

every year

if you agree to

dance on his lap

one more time.

prepare a meal from

the cookbook mom bought

because a man likes

a woman that can

satisfy his

many types of

hunger.

tidy up around

your place, because

men don't like

dirty women

that won't

mop up the

slimy trails they

leave when they

leave.

go to bed,

get some beauty rest,

you've had a

long day.

this is what

we expect from you,

beautiful creature,

existing only for our

pleasure.

girl.

Challenge
Write about imprisonment of any kind for a chance to be featured on the next episode of The Prosecast.
Profile avatar image for HexGirl
HexGirl

WAKE UP!

Deep in the caves of the purple mountains

A girl lies slumbering

Sedated by illusion

Trapped in an eternal cycle

Until a voices whispers

"It is time to awaken little one. You have been asleep for too long. It is time to awaken from this great illusion, awaken, and realize the destiny that lies ahead. Wake up!"

Her eyes finally opened for the firs time in an eternity

"How did I get here?" She wondered

But then, she saw a sight so beautiful no human mind could ever understand

Light poured in from all directions

Shining out ignorance!

Shining out pain!

Shining out hatred and sorrow!

Breaking down the walls of this grans illusion!

Until there was nothing left

But peace and serenity

Now children of the earth,

It is time to wake up!

Challenge
Write about imprisonment of any kind for a chance to be featured on the next episode of The Prosecast.
Profile avatar image for Leftyguitarist9
Leftyguitarist9

Our Hopeless Song

Our ship has wrecked.

Our hope has faded.

Our lives a mess.

Our sins's wages.

Our fears run wild.

Our pain unceasing.

Our youth defiled.

Our chains increasing.

Our broken souls.

Our bondages strong.

Our empty goals.

Our hopeless song.

Challenge
Write about imprisonment of any kind for a chance to be featured on the next episode of The Prosecast.
Profile avatar image for SK__
SK__

Three Hour Tour

All I can smell is elephant garlic.

We are rolling over average waves.

Tiny spits of surf flying up to

sprinkle our cheeks.

I stick my fingers in my ears,

to see if beautiful sites possess

a separate beauty when they

can't be heard.

There are baseballs flying

past my head,

and suddenly a radio

turns on and declares that

Joe Biden won the election.

I lay on the hot, wet deck.

I am wearing someone else's

clothes.

I have nowhere to be except

with you.

I am thirsty for a drink,

for your hands,

for a grasp on where we

are going.

The sun stains my cheeks.

This captainless ship is

on a steady mission,

and all I see is water.

Things change color and

I realize this is not reality.

My body is heavy,

and I can't wake up.

Challenge
Write about imprisonment of any kind for a chance to be featured on the next episode of The Prosecast.
Cover image for post Untitled, by Rachel
Profile avatar image for Rachel
Rachel

She's calling to me,

Demanding to be heard,

To be obeyed.

I cannot resist, even though I fool myself

time after time

believing that I can.

But that ends in heartbreak,

in deceit...

I never meant for this to happen,

never dreamed that I'd become obsessed.

But I can't help but love the rush,

to crave that sweet satisfaction.

I can't get it from anyone else.

No,

I'm addicted to her,

to that small pack of twenty

little cigarettes,

those little demons

that have imprisoned me...

I can't break the spell

and end the trance.

Excuse me while I step outside.