Rabbit Hole Writing Club – September 2023

AAA! Sorry this is coming so late – this managed to fall right in the middle of midterms. With that being said,

Thanks to this month’s contributors!

This month’s prompt is:

two sides of the same coin

//content warning for references to self-harm


     Jump to:
                  Bear          Heather

Bear (Host of With Strange Aeons):

Faustian

The grinding halt of the conveyor belt indicates closing time,
in the same way a bell rope snaps
When the Devil comes to town

Fear and desire are two sides of the same coin
and I find myself wanting, wanting
for absolution, maybe,
something closer to emptiness,
maybe when I wake up I will be something
again with the ringing
collecting itself inside the bowl of my head
until it cracks and the taste of blood seeps out.

I unknowingly chew at my lip until the skin breaks,
I am as close as I can get.
(I still want more.)

Heather Baxindale-Walsh (Host of Word of (Hell)mouth)

Chasms of the Deep

Pieces of her splashed against the sand and rescinded, a wave crashing back into the sea, the lingering bits frothing until they were no more, once again a part of the ocean, a shining beacon of beauty and endlessness. But what lay underneath the crystal blue waters were chasms filled with darkness, fury, and ache, but also wisdom, understanding, and love. Her secrets and mysteries the world ignored, most preferring to ride their boats on the surface and pollute her waters with their toxic garbage.

Only on occasion did she allow those depths to come to the surface. And when they did, the sea let the world know it was alive. The waves would break into a violent and unapologetic rage, tired of the world around her only using the parts it deemed valuable while her essence was ignored. The world grew silent as she sought release, and only then did they seem to understand and respect the raw power she harnassed, but they'd soon forget again. They always did.

Each time she returned to remind them, she grew angrier, more weary of their apathy. The righteous indignation of the sea brought storms down upon all and destroyed whatever lay in its path, an unconsolable fury.

But few bothered to learn, to understand, to see her. Instead, they gave her names and used plebeian tongues to describe her goddesslike desperation to be understood and valued and then forgot about her.

In this battle of being in the world but not a part of it, the sea split into two, two sides of one coin, one still full of hope and dreams, the other side a creature of darkness and defeat, rage and vengeance.

Buried in the chasm, joy, pain, and love all dwelled, but they weren't the result of the beaches or the surf that drew so many in. No, the shores existed because the darkness beneath the surface eroded the earth, molding the beach and powering those crests that so many dared to ride.

Still, the sea carried on in its endless, tireless way, searching for peace as the world around it carried on, blind to who she was.

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