Scrittura Prompt / What does your world look like?
Vitals. Innards. Bowels. Guts. Vitals because you are.
I call you my villain — vexatious, venomous, and vicious viscera. A tangled, twisted serpent that slinks through my days and slithers through my dreams.
When did we stop being friends? How can I deserve such acrimony after housing you these many years?
Why did you break up with me?
It wasn’t the bourbon that warmed you or the peppers that excited you. It wasn’t the ice cream that cooled you or the soup that soothed you.
No, it was the soft, gentle wheat — like lilies in the field. It was the bread and the pasta and the pastries. Comfort transformed to distress.
Now, my world is you. My waking hours commanded and control by viscera. My plans destroyed, my sleep erased, my meals messed up.
Every bite a hazard.
That birthday cake is a landmine. That rigatoni, a grenade. That sandwich, dynamite.
I deserve so much better than you.
© Dennett 2021
In response to another bizarre prompt from J.D. Harms: