Bloodfest.
Never take a nap un a bathtub while you are drunk
Dreams can seem very real
Bloodfest!
\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/
Dawn finds me
gazing out the window
blowing soft bubbles,
eyes wide beneath the waters
that distort the sun's brightness
The iron claws beneath me
hold my vessel tight
to the linoleum floor
but my blood vessels drain
from wrists sliced deeply,
two snicks of a shick
and the heated water draws
my life into a red film,
distorting my last dawn,
painting a hazy
bloody sunrise,
around the dark
ruby suspended,
in the middle
pane of glass.
Soon my soul will fly
into that crimson orb,
swept up in the afterlife
of oblivion
as flesh settles into
this cast iron coffin,
but wait,
what dark hands
draw me down,
scaly stench
filled appendages,
as I struggle to rise, to flee,
but to no avail for I am pulled
into the drain and deeper,
down into the heated core,
of a darker sunrise
spread like raw meat
over the flaming abyss of hell,
then I am let loose
and I tumble,
into the sliced
and diced despair,
of all who've
left before me,
millions of depressed souls
screaming as I
hurtle towards them
writhing in endless torment
burned for their early exit,
damned for their waste
of what was granted,
I squeeze my eyes shut
and brace myself.
then I roll as I hit,
and intense heat
washes over my face,
Alarmed I open
my eyes to find
the sun blazing in through
the bathroom window
gleaming on the razor
perched near the edge
of my clawed tub,
the empty vodka
bottle sparkling nearby,
my skull splitting far more
then any of the flesh
on my unsplit wrists,
as I awake from
a drunken stupor
that saved my life.
© 2009 Matthew Frederick Blowers III