What the fuck was I doing here? Living on the side of a highway on borrowed land on another man's land was there a better life? There must be somewhere pushed from pillar to post all my life so many houses to live in so many lives lived who was I back then?

A lover a fighter and adventurer a poet a painter a seeker.

What am I now? a writer a son the good son? Always the good son.

How would we end up? Us so fragile and broken yet searching for peace and light.

Was the fight over? No not in this life not in this world not ever.

As long as you give it a go give it a shot be true that was what mattered.

Pass fail not the point as long as you tried.

When you said I could never be a boy, I wondered if you knew what trans-gender meant. Next, I was offended because... just, why would you say that? I was trying to come out to you! I was also concerned. To be honest, I thought you would react better. And I know you are thinking of it from a biological stand point; you're a doctor, what else are you supposed to do? But, I think its not a choice. Like, why would I make this choice? Why would I choose to be ridiculed by all my friends? Why would I choose for my dad to tell me that he would take me seriously if I was twenty five? Why would I want you to call me by my dead name and continue to use incorrect pronouns after months of me begging you not to? Why do you think I would do something that could make my teachers hate me? Why would I say something I know would make my uncle beat me up if he heard it out loud? Why would I do this? Do you really want to know? Its because I love you and I want you to know the truth. I want to be able to tell you what I'm really feeling and trust you when it comes to right and wrong. I want a dad who believes in me and accepts me for who I am. I wanted you to know me the way I see myself: beautiful. I can't think of a better way for me to express my love than telling the truth.

I still remember you teaching me that lying about the cookie crumbs on my bed was wrong. I remember you taking me to church and telling me that Jesus loves me as much as you do. I remember at night when you would tell me a story. I remember those walks you took singing me to sleep on your back with Silent Night instead of something more like a lullaby because it was the only song you knew (its still my favorite). I remember you telling me you'd always love me, that I'd always be your little girl. I wanted to tell you the truth. I wanted you to grow with me, I hoped that you'd share my view and try to learn. I hoped that instead of saying little girl you'd say I was your little kid, always safe when I'm with you. I hoped that you'd love me as I love you, not expecting me to be perfect but being there anyway. I love you dad and I always will. I hope you can see that still.

Love, Me, always and forever

Pull the sword from your chest,

Force it into mine.

I am the kingdom of loss,

And it is not yet your time.

The black of night,

Screams silently in my shadows cast.

Promises of plague and cold,

To rise for vengeance from graves past.

But this sword of chaos and dark,

It is not yours to wield.

I will hold the front lines with both hands

If you will carry my shield.

From an intro inspired by Tears for Fears, into a moonlit buzz of wonder, and then on to two new bloods that absolutely steal the show with their words to ride shotgun across the moon so graceful, into a summer to greet the juxtapostion of death against dread.

Here's the link to Prose. Radio's Episode 55.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eZo89vojB_E

And here are the requested pieces featured.

https://www.theprose.com/post/822872/time-too-short

https://www.theprose.com/post/823028/a-summer-passes

And.

As always.

Thank you for being here.

-The Prose team

When you said

“Sometimes I go there

only to look for you”

It surprised me and made me feel

unbelievably good

But perhaps a little skeptical too

That the presence (or absence)

of someone as ordinary as myself

would ever be noted

by someone as extraordinary as you

But as time went on

I learned that

though you are blunt

deceit is not your way

So I want you to know

that because you took the time

to share something so simple

It has made all the difference

in how I view myself

even to this day

Thank you

When you said

I think about death all the time

my heart shattered

as someone who has lived with death

invited him over even

once or twice

the sentiment was nothing new

we’re old friends, he and I,

buddies;

but you,

You

who have always loved life

who never entertained thoughts

of mortality

never wanted the trip to end

who found joy in each phase

life threw your way

for you, for me, this was devastating

a normal stage of progression,

perhaps,

but one I’d hoped you’d never meet.

There are nine obvious holes in me

Nine liaisons with the universe

I hope to leave humanity

With nine, no more, in my hearse

There are two for catching drumbeats

Tympanically delivered

From a world of broken heartbeats

Before I'm umbilically scissored

Four holes I have are front and near

Two that breathe my share of air

Two are for leaking my salty tears

All on my face, arranged in pairs

There's one that comes with taste and suction

Where both my needs and wants will meet

With compensatory eruption

When overindulging the Great Teat

There's one ending vermiform

Between my legs--who knew?

When it grows up, it'll fusiform

And corkscrew more holey people, too

One hole that's truly splendid

Alleged to be a one-way street

Doth render me truly open-ended

Without it, obstructed and incomplete

Extra holes are dangerous

They bleed or gape or drain

Bodily fluids that raise a fuss

'Cause you won't get 'em back again

"Behind every good thing that existed, there was something tragic."

For me the tragedy was my mom, or maybe the after effects of her murder, or maybe it was the nuclear holocaust or maybe it was our second chance. The chance we had to put our talents to use. It wasn't much of a choice. We were chipped and collared. "We're looking for those who can enjoy the kill." That was what they had said. Why they wanted kids, I never knew. Teach them young, I guess. It was my fault we were there. It was my fault I was staring at the ceiling, cords pouring from my wrist. I was mechanical. I was just a machine, a machine of death. The worst part was that I had dragged my brother in too. Those jokes we made about the electric chair don't seem so bad anymore. I was so proud of myself for staying positive, though it could have just been the high of the kill. "The kill" The two words that changed my life. The two words that sentenced me to The Death of the Soul. I needed to escape, I wanted to escape. "But it's your fault." a voice argued, "It's your fault you're here. You made the kill. You chose not to run." I clenched my first around the charging cord. I shouldn't be here. One mistake didn't determine my life. But it did, didn't it? If I could do it over again, I would do the exact same thing. And so it repeats, the endless metronome of constant grief and regret and guilt. I caused the tragedy. The tragedy that twisted my heart into a beautiful form of pain. Maybe one day it can become something good. I remember being good, it was horrible. I couldn't do anything when my friends were getting killed. I couldn't save myself or anyone else. I gave only power I had. I chose evil, and evil chose me. I sat up and pulled the cord from my wrist. The other girls lay around me, in sleep. I slowly tiptoed across the room, pulling out my charger once I got to the door. Then it hit me. I screamed. The pain overwhelmed me. I gasped. It can't possibly get worse, I thought, and then it did. My back arched and my feet hit the wall. I couldn't tell if I was screaming; all that existed was pain. The all consuming horror of it wrenched at my chest, trying to come undone. "What are we going to do?!" the voices shouted in my head.

"We can't do anything!" replied another, "We just have to wait it out."

The door opened and closed. A mop of sandy, blond hair touched my cheek. I slowly stopped thrashing. Something was moving inside my wrist then the pain stopped completely. All feeling stopped. I sat up and stared into my brother's face. "Thank you." I gasped. And then there was darkness. Welcome to my life.