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D R I P

THOMAS ROAN

ring, ring

By R. on May 04, 2018 10:47 pm

My eyelashes taste sunlight, and I’m awake like night never happened. Check the sheets. Damp from sweat. Empty. All my dreams vanished with the closing of yet another door. Left to reckon the morning with only the faintest traces of your presence:

Lipstick on the ebony nightstand.

White lace garment hanging from the bathroom doorknob.

A picture of us in front of the Praxem building. Taken that morning, the last day I saw your face.

Wedding band. Engagement Ring.

 

ive-never-seen-you-that-excited-before-mp4

 

My head is fucked. The inside of my body feels like cake batter stirred with a chainsaw. The chamber scooped out all my vitals and viscera, threw it in a churn and set the speed to insubstantial.

I’m stuck in a loop, one moment on repeat, forever and ever. That moment.

Doubt that I’ll see you again
Not in this world
Not in this life

But maybe—

Maybe the chamber is my only hope. I just haven’t found the right combination. Gotta find the one you used, the exact same one. Like chasing you across galaxies with no coordinates. Random jumps at light speed. Hoping

 

Hoping this time

I’ll find you

bring you back

w   a   k   e          u     p

 

 

 

My cell goes off. 

That ringtone.

I can't breathe. 

This isn't real.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It’s you.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

You’re calling me.


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o p e n

By R. on May 03, 2018 04:05 pm

 

And

 

 

now

 

 

 

 

I’m

 

 

 

 

 

 

falling.

 

 

 

 

MOSHED-2018-5-3-11-8-29

 

 

tumbling

 

 

 

down

 

 

 

 

down

 

 

 

down

 

 

   through

 

 

              the

 

 

   floor

 

 

              of

 

 

o        b        l         i                   i        o        n        ,
v

 

 

 

u n

 

l i t

 

t h e

 

e      s

 

r       e

 

 

a             n

 

 

d                              e

 

 

 

f                                                                  o

 

 

m                                                                                                     y

 

     

       

          

                    ෧ 

      ෧

ʍ

u

s

ᴉuns          r

   h
y
t

                       h

   m                  .
.

.

 

comes

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t o   f l o o d   t h e   _  _  _  _  _   s t r e e t

of               my                 sub                   cons               cious

b l u e    s m o k e    h a z e    P a R a D e

 

 

w h i t e  f l a g s
s   n   a   p   p   i   n  g
i n  t h e  b r e e z e
a n
d i
f e
v e
r I
n e
e d
e d
y o
u h
e r
e b
e s
i d
e m
e, i
t’ s
n o
w .

.

.

.

deliver evil liver e  v  i   l    e     d

 

.

  e

s

       i

R

i

s

e

t h e
w i t h  s u n.


 

 

 

 

Morning is red,

 

 

 

 

 

no wonder.

 

 

 

 

 

large (2)
⸮theriverfeelsshallowhereisitdeepenoughtodrown?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

idonttnodi


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