Beneath – Prompt Night A Dash of Sunny


Cut me open first,

then you.

Carve a Y incision like we’re post- mortem

but remember, we’re still breathing, keep that in mind.


Here we are, our organs exposed to the same air, steaming slightly.

That’s a good sign.

If you look carefully, just there, that’s right, you can see my heart beating,

nestled behind its bone-cage.

Protected. Safe.

Slide your fingers between,

touch it, go on, absorb its vitality, its strength, its determination.

Now feel yours.

What’s different?

Nothing? Nothing.

It’s like we’re the same underneath.

Let’s stand side by side, let’s look in the mirror.

Ignore the blonde hair not black, ignore the skin of a darker hue, ignore the blue eyes versus brown

Stare deep within

See my lungs, intestines, maybe even my liver hidden at the back.

Give yourself the same scrutiny.

We’re the same, inside,

nothing much to separate us really.

We’re all blood, bone and guts in the end.

The same.

Hate me, and you’re hating yourself.


Such a waste.


Here’s my entry to this week’s prompt from A Dash of Sunny, where we are invited to write prose or poetry intended to dispel hatred. I’ve been pondering on this on and off all day, since my first thought was that I needed to write something light, cheerful and, well, sunny. The thing is, that’s not my metier (not right now, anyway). I inhabit the dark side mostly, and whilst I can write light, cheerful and sunny, it’s something that I need ot practice at. And at this end of the week, I feel rather drained!

Anyway, I took another approach – focusing on our similarities, highlighting that no matter what, we are all just humans underneath. But with a dark twist, of course. I hope you like it (or if not, perhaps appreciate it for what it is), I hope it fills the brief sufficiently well.

And as is my usual way, I encourage you to read the other entries and… take part yourself!

Amongst the Stones

Our shelter had just been a house of cards.

Now we look at them scattered between us, devastated.

This family of hearts is broken.

Our blood seeps, dripping thickly from the entrails of our lives. Our chests are cavities, eviscerated by loss. We stare at each other, our mouths slack and silent, our hearts a bloody mound at our feet.

I pull a beating muscle towards me. I grip it, feel it pulsating and wet between my fingers, not caring if it is mine. I push it into the space beneath my breastbone. I pull the ribs, sinews, muscles and skin together, closing the chasm, demanding the emptiness to be filled. One after the other, we choose a heart from the quivering pile until the ground is bare.

We rebuild our shelter. We stand tall again.

Our fingers bleed and blister, our muscles ache with the hard, bone-breaking work. But we do it. Together. For you. For us.

And now at last, we stand amongst the stones.


Copyright - Freya

Copyright – Freya