Tuesday, 6 January 2015

Until that is, I brewed up a storm

I close my eyes and a gurgling green mess of liquid spills through the blackness. Shapes take form and fall away over and over, like oil bubbling from the ground. I see her outline, with her skinny shape and angry features. She stands proudly, unperturbed and perfect. I hate her soul. I would smash it to pieces. Drag it out of her, beat it to death. Burn parts of her body. Piss everywhere, enraged, with fists clenched beating against the ground.

It starts me screaming again. Screaming until I fall off my feet. Screaming on the floor. Grabbing my head. Grasping at nothing. Screaming until I can't stop. Until I pass out.

I wake in the hospital again, in the ugly lace-up gown. They've removed my underwear and there's plastic tupperware containers of food paste at the end of the bed. Every time I close my eyes she's there. So I don't. Not any more. I'll hold my eyes open, tape them open, whatever I need to do to survive.

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