Nothing Left
My words like the wings on sparrows back
Disguise the fact there’s nothing left
Of you of me of anything
A Pointless pointless pointless trek
And killing, slowly, everything
And questioning all of the rest
Of “what’s the point? What’s the point”
The results are meaningless and never last
You have no control over who you are
And you’ll always end up coming in last
Even though you had such a head start
You’ll never catch up you’re falling behind
And there’s no escape from your decrepit mind
Hopeless hopeless all of it
Helpless helpless all of it
It’s all just talk it’s all just talk
It’s all your fault it’s all your fault
There’s no escape
From the place
It’s all I’ve ever known or know
And it’s my future present
It’s my past
It’s who I am itched in my skin
And it stirs my troubles there within
And reminds me how there’s nothing left
Nothing left
Nothing left
Frat Party
The popcorn specks on the wall above twisted and swirled around the ceiling, dancing like the college drunks grinding on eachother in the living room.
How did I get here?
The door closed somehow, transforming the bumping music from the outside into the muffled sounds of hope escaping.
What’s going on?
With a great amount of effort she lifted the sack of stones that was her head up in hopes to get a glimpse of whoever had just joined her.
“Who are you?” She asked, but he didn’t answer. He just looked at her with those empty eyes that hungered.
For living flesh.
For a girl with a pretty face alone in an empty room.
Her head collapsed back on the bed and the speckled wall rejoined her until her vision blackened as her eyes rolled themselves upwards and into outer space.
Her head was pounding with the music that was still too loud. She felt her arm journey up to her face with the force of gravity pounding it back down in place, towards the sheets, but she resisted. She must resist.
She couldn’t sense much. She couldn’t feel her face on her hand or her hand on her face but she could sense some kind of danger.
I gotta get outta here.
She felt, or perhaps just heard, a presence walk alongside the bed she was lying on. Slowly. Methodically. Taking his time.
She tried to sit up and the pathetic attempt only resulted in her rolling on her side, almost falling off the bed.
Gravity wasn’t her friend right now and neither was this man who joined her in her bedroom.
Or is this someone else’s bedroom?
“Hey now, girlie, you’re in no shape to go anywhere.” She heard a warm voice say. Warm like honey, or like a frog slowly boiling in increasingly hot water, waiting to die.
Dangerous.
She then realized his hand was on her shoulder and in an awkward reflex she spastically tried to shake him off. The way an arachnophobe would react to a baby spider crawling up his shoulder.
With disgust.
Panic suddenly lent her the strength to jolt her head over her shoulder and his grip tightened.
She recognized him. He was that boy her sorority sister introduced. That boy with the eyes that slowly undressed her. That boy that had offered her that drink.
What was in that drink?
His gaze at her had a thousand words to say. She knew exactly what was about to happen.
“Please” she tried to plead. Her big, 18 year old eyes looking up at him, drowning in tearful fears, “I’m a virgin.”
He smiled viciously: “That makes it even better.”