Slam.
The sound of lockers with bells echoing through the halls, books and ink spilling on tile floor
Slam.
Bathroom stalls shut and locked with cold water running and fire alarms disabled, hot boxed in
Slam.
Car door closed with cut and paste smiles held together with superglue, chopped up flaws swept under the rug
Slam.
His head against the walls in the stairwell, suburban fraud and deception stage show
Slam.
My hand in his, passion and teenage infatuation written all over our lips straddling on a bench with Aerosmith on the phone
Slam.
They scream at me that I'm a sinner with slurs falling like rain from their mouths, but I'm not a desert
Slam.
A remote is in my hand, 3 empty bottles of wine in the refrigerator and metal fragments stuck to my legs like leeches
Slam.
Asylum doors lock with bars over windows, restless souls haunting me in restraints with needles piecing my every move
Slam.
My feet on fresh concrete road after road leading nowhere, yet going everywhere at the same time
Slam.
The door shut as I try to runaway, but silly boy, you can't escape me, not now, not ever
Slam.
My head against the bathroom wall as they hold me down, suppression and disgust flood my veins
Slam.
Water pouring over me, filling my lungs till they explode, it all explodes, every fiber of my existence comes crashing down into the ocean of who I could've been, should've been, and never ever will be
Slam.
The door to my room for the first time in a year, drawing the shades shut as the lights go out because
Slam.
I've lost it again. And this time, there's no going back.
YOU ARE READING
Random Shorts
RandomIf you want to see a sample of what my writing is like, you've come to the right place. THIS IS NOT A STORY. that means that there is NO ORDER to the chapter/page thingies.
