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| Subject: -Time Well Waisted- | |
Author: Jim | [ Next Thread |
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] Date Posted: 11:28:17 12/30/05 Fri The sound of a long unused dead bolt sliding free of its shaft, the soft whine of ignored hinges as the heavy door swigs slowly open. My self-affliction fades A dark shadow stands motionless in the doorway, a large duffle bag in one hand. It had been near two years since this man had been within those walls, in just opening the door he nearly drowned in the memories that flood out. Stones to throw at my creator The first step took a while, but after that a few long strides took him into his house. The dust had been kept in check, but other than that it was just as he'd left it. The sweet smells that had lingered when he left where gone, replaced by stale air and darkness. Masochists to which I cater Not bothering to turn on any lights, despite the late hour, he sets his bag on the bed and turns to the bathroom. Turning on the shower and letting it run until the hot water filled long cold pipes, he strips down and steps into the steam and scalding spray. You don't need to bother I don't need to be When the hot water ran out, he stepped from the shower. Simply running a hand over his face to rid it of water and shaking out his hair, much like a dog would. Leaving dirty clothes where they had fallen on the bathroom floor, he slips on a fresh pair from his bag and moves into the living room. I'll keep slipping farther But once I hold on I won't let go 'til it bleeds After plugging the apliances back in, he sits on the couch with a bottle of wine and turns on the tv. Wine had been the only consumable he'd been able to leave here as there was no worry of it going bad. Wish I was too dead to care Taking a long swig from the freshly opened bottle, he flips through the channels finally settling on a full time news show that was dull as hell and just the facts. For a long time he sat there, looking relaxed, with the volume low on the tv. If indeed I cared at all He was slowly draining the bottle, it would only get him a little drunk, he drank too much these days. But he'd managed to crawl his way out of drugs, for this month. The tini pomeranian was curled beside him on the couch, its nose burryed, as usual, under its tail. Never had a voice to protest It had been a desperate attempt to get him somewhat clean, he'd been dangerous to everyone on the tour. So they'd thrown a helpless, crying little puppy at him. It took a few weeks but it had worked, they new him better than he knew himself anymore. So you fed me shit to digest His violent fits had all but disappeared, he'd returned to his old habit of retreating into himself when things got bad. Slowly he had turned to simply keeping the pain at bay with alcohol, though he always felt like hell, it helped. I wish I had a reason my flaws are open season  For this, I gave up trying One good turn deserves my dying [ Next Thread | Previous Thread | Next Message | Previous Message ] |