Dull pain, attacking my temples
White hot and throbbing
My skull sloshes around in its fluid
Gleaming alarmingly
Dull pain, blinding me
Eventually
To end in the swallowing
Of a pill
Little effervescent circle
Crumbly, smooth to the touch
Modest fizzy disk of white
Thin my blood
And end this gnaw
The tainted shortcut that kills
The pain instantaneously
Seems the better option
Than the raw exposure that comes
From the right way out
YOU ARE READING
Post - it
Short StoryRevelations, poems, short stories and three a.m monologues, all as tiny as a post-it
