The Late, Late Hour

Open-eyed darkness with a few blue LEDs – I make myself exist again, shake off the little dreams and get some water and a window open – what I really need is at the short tip of my tongue but is still not fully formed. I’ve had a headache since October and my skin’s been feeling warm but who can tell what quiet hells are raging deep within my cells – I am so dry and so so thirsty; I have smoked myself to jerky; I have wandered late hallways like a ghost to find the one thing I can’t think of but each time I hold an idea in my mind I know it’s not the one I’m looking for – the shape is not quite right. I let my room air out dioxides while my skin steams wet heat outside for a moment before surveying the lay-out of the street. There is something at the tip of my tongue, something that I need but cannot think of – I will sneak up on it if I start to dream again tonight.

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~ by perfectionatrix on December 2, 2014.

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