It begins to escalate and then it loses control. For Abuse Awareness. |
Crooked little smile on chapped-cherry lips today; you sit with me and whisper something but it’s lost behind the dawn-damp haze. You pass two white pills and when I shiver you nod and place them in my mouth instead, the glass of water to my lips as you cradle my lolling head. I can barely think. Outside the grey-grit city yawns, is waking up, noises dragging themselves like dying beasts, towards some unseen resting place. The noise, garbled gabbling, babbling like babies in the street below. Crushed up cans that have missed their bins clatter as they scatter in the wind recoiling from the path of dusty cars. I want them to make sense. You wait for my eyes to focus, for me to become aware again. For me to moan across my parched tongue, groan rising up from the agony of omens which twists in my chest and coils like a snake in my spine. I remember that day because the day after was the same. How old were we? You and I? Poor little angels we were no longer, more like demons in disguise. We lied and lied to keep ourselves alive. I don’t call it suffering. I lost my ability to feel, it’s not impossible. But my mind, that mine without diamonds, is filled with red stones which sit in calm array, lining the walls whilst I huddle in the middle with eyes unfocused, groans rising from the hole in my chest. I am no man. I will not exist. |