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red eye

in the bathroom of a delta red eye, i'm looking in the cataract mirror, its surface milky with dried soap and snot and god knows what else. in my open palm is a scattered pile of little white pills. i'm not really looking at my misty reflection. really, I'm looking past it, past the wretched false me, and into some morbid infinity i've built for myself, tangents of oblivion twisted together like rubber bricks-- bloodless dream after bloodless dream. libertine tears whispering out my open eyes, i pop the rabbit shit pills down my filthy throat. in a nightmare instant, the plane leaps, and my little death mints, they're lodged in my windless windpipe. and I'm gasping, clutching, dying on borrowed air. trapped in my suicidal limbo, i can almost see god, beaming, giddy in an ironic euphoria, flipping me His divine bird in a final "fuck you".
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Written by
cole-atkinson
American
Published
Apr 10, 2011
Lines·Words
35·148
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