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Rated: 18+ · Prose · Young Adult · #1916561
A free flow poem with insight into substance and alcohol abuse
The fox grins through blood stained teeth at the hungry bear across the plain. I sit quietly and watch it all from a hotel room through a flat, polychromatic screen. Soon enough I hear jokes in the air conditioner's relentless hum and laugh until tears run like a river down my face, south, to stain my shirt. The blemish is only visible momentarily but lingers in the chilled air eternally. The embarrassment of emotion makes me shake like 21 year old binge drinking once did but just like then more booze gives temporary relief while only making it worse the next morning.
I pour gallons of caramel-whiskey and water-like vodka into the gaping mouth of the bar slut bathtub.
Next comes a multi-colored stream of uppers and downers followed by strange herbs, ground up, and all washed down with the endless tsunami of distilled and fermented drink. The woman asleep under the flowered comforter and perfectly pressed hotel sheets wakes up to the noise in the bathroom and when she sees it's all gone, takes my wallet and leaves, slamming the door behind her. I yell out that I love her but secretly pray she never comes back. I run from the drunken, drugged up tub to the corded telephone on the fake oak nightstand and violently press numbers until a familiar voice comes on the line asking how I've been when all I wanted was to talk to someone new and genuine. I tell the voice I'm fine then hang up the phone forcefully before lying back in hopes of just a few minutes of peace but as soon as sleep settles in, my dreams start playing on a loop and are more jarring and stressful than my waking life. I jump up in a cold sweat and heated rage, looking for someone to hurt but only see a mirror. Screaming, I grab it off of the wall and with it jump out of the window.

During the 13 story descent, from the 14th floor, I manage only 7 thoughts.
You were one of them.
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