Today’s daily prompt challenge is,
Tell us about a thing you’ll never write about.
What a challenge!
Is it possible?
How can you write about something,
that you refuse to write about?
Then it hits me like a brick.
Oh my God!
This is what I have been doing for twenty years.
Deep inside I have memories.
They bubble some days just below the surface.
I keep an eye on them,
ensuring they never spill over.
Sometimes it is a smell that comes my way,
as I pass a well groomed man,
or a glimpse of someone who reminds me of
the one I work so hard to forget.
Perhaps it is a friend who harmlessly hugs me,
or someone standing too close to my daughter.
All quiet reminders of what I will not write about.
Night time does not always bring relief,
as it is in sleep sometimes I cannot escape.
The memories relived as if in current time.
Real, loud and physical.
Causing me to wake up as upset as I once was.
And yet I rarely tell.
Those who live with me know what happened,
but they do not really know.
I have never told them anything.
No details, no account.
And they have been good enough to never ask.
Perhaps they sometimes wonder, I cannot be sure.
But I know I can never tell a soul what really happened,
Nor can I ever write about it.
This post is in response to the daily prompt. Never.