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Apr 2016 · 325
Stoplight Day Dream
Ethan L Hutchins Apr 2016
I walked in with her ******* in the air, still wearing her shoes like some **** star we the younger generation wants so badly.
My best friend is helping her hide her ****** with himself inside of her.
Clenched fist, tears turning to fire, gritting my teeth so hard I feel them powdering away.
The door **** is nothing but a twisted *** of metal as I tear the door of the wall,
Clubbing his head with all my rage only made my bloodlust thirst.
I grabbed the mirror and smashed it a crossed the both of them,
The room now filled with shards of glass; the sunlight making it look like as if the bedroom was crying with me.
Sweat, tears, body odor, blood, spit, all in the air nauseating my brain, like spoiled food to a sick man.
Each hand is full of hair, one his, one hers, were headed towards the kitchen.
I see the garbage disposal, the knife block, the priceless hardwood table.
I see red, black, white.
All I can hear is ****, ****, ****.
My head filled with only with regret. My hands covered in blood, is it mine or is it theirs?
One deep breath, one look down, one thought….

— The End —