Infernally Yours


Write a new post in response to today’s one-word prompt

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Every doubt, every scar, every insult, every hurt, every injustice every demon.

I was told to overcome them, banish those demons- put them behind me, bury them, shove them into a room and lock the door and throw away the key.

Go ahead and build and fashion with my own two hands a room where the air is chilled by despair, lit by anger and every square inch, every corner of that cavernous room is crammed full of bones, twisted shadows and the torn and bloody remains of  every me who ever was in doubt, ever injured, ever insulted or dealt an injustice.

The crying the half breaths and the whispering and shouting into nothingness would never end in that room- does anybody know that?

Why doesn’t that matter?


Create a Hell is the advice I get,  create a hell shut the door, lock it and throw away the key.

I can see myself standing in front of the door. I can feel the coldness, hear the despair. I can see the handle being frantically turned and worked from the other side.

I should lock that door, throw away the key and walk away from that door…

Or I could open the door, walk inside and

embrace what I find there and make it my own.



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