Backwards Swallowing

After that, I walked around the side to find the spot where people hide when they are tired and they think that the music is too loud. I drank too much to call you now – my thoughts are planks of neatly cut wood laid to make a deck. The other smokers ask me questions – little do they suspect I am three seconds from hurling out my stomach on this fence. I answer basically, evasively, deep breaths in my chest. I concentrate on swallowing and letting acids rest in the churned pit of my stomach – this is it, I’ve really done it – I hug the railing sweetly (now no people want to meet me) and I stare at all the feet; we are a strange array of shoes. I know the shot that did it – the third agave blue, and here it comes again to greet me (oh my love you shouldn’t see me, welping like a dog, can’t help but still be self-defeating) and ohhhhh ahhhhhhh


~ by perfectionatrix on January 26, 2012.

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