Not suffocating, but not breathing either, they are indifferent to my stress as they wait for me, desiring the life that they think I can provide.  But, as I mold their fate they understand that I am as ignorant as they to what will become of us all, as we put ourselves together – lost until united – not suffocating but not breathing either.  Staring back at one another clearly we are dependent on the other, for alone they are but a possibility, and they look to me to guide them, but I know that I am unworthy to take them from a simple possibility into an immortal divinity.  Some call them the alpha and the omega but I call them satisfying for without them I am not suffocating but clearly I’m not breathing either.

They are the means by which I open my life up to the world, what from my tongue I could never unleash, from these digits, take their hold.  Simply they stare up at me, waiting for me to give them purpose, they care little for my dignity, as my secrets to them are worthless.  They simply want their freedom which they know is in my hands, and I know their crying will never cease and that without me they are damned for I am the tool by which they breathe yet I live at their command watching as they stare back at me and wondering if I have a plan.


Written for Writing 101: Prose Poem, Fingers.  I wrote about the interplay between fingers and the computer keyboard as the letters look up at me and I look down at them and just leave it to my fingers to get lost in the flow and figure it out.

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  1. Really nice! A lot of the time I struggle reading and understanding poetry.I liked your prose poem very much. . . .”They simply want their freedom which they know is in my hands”. . . Awesome !

    Liked by 1 person

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