z-en.

—black and white are all i see.

eyes shut

cold and sick

—ugh

red and yellow; a tugging at my arm.

—for fucks sake

i know i can't hide much longer

i feign sleep anyway

it's annoying

the cold arm pulling me back to reality

—christ

—can't a man get a bit of sleep nowadays?

i run through all the normal excuses in my head

—maybe today i'll dust-off the "ideopathic back pain"

—or maybe stomach would be a better choice

the hospital sheets try their best to warn me

the cold arm continues to tug.

—fuck it

i suppose i can just improvise

—black and white are all i see

until red and yellow and fuck and jesus and shit and god

the cold steel bar of the hospital bed blindsides me

i'm rolling over the sides

—shit shit shit shit shit

my eyes are barely open, but somehow i know

maybe it was a kind of instinct

maybe it was a kind of madness

just before i barely slide out of the way

just before the hungry teeth sink into the pillow behind me

something inside me knew that i had woken up in a horrible place

something inside me knew that i had woken up somewhere

shit smack in the middle of something

something very, very…

fucked.

i stumble, making a mad dash towards the door

my wrist suddenly crying out

—this can't be happening

but it is.

i'm unable to register my surroundings

but oh god, the smell

the low, droning moans remind me that i am fucked

the cold handcuffs, screaming metal laughter.

—shit shit shit shit shit shit

i feel another bite narrowly miss my shoulder

i can hear the crack of teeth and bone hitting metal behind me

my wrist cries out again as i struggle against the cuffs holding me to the bed

she's on me now.

i can feel dead, rotted breasts on my neck

the chaos is stifling

i can't help myself

somehow, i find myself wondering;

—who are you?

maybe "who were you?" would be more appropriate.

my thoughts interrupted as i dodge another lunge

this time the teeth sink into the hair underneath my ear

—fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck

isn't my life supposed to be flashing before my eyes?

suddenly i'm wishing i were fucked and high and strung out somewhere

wishing this were all some fucked fever dream

wishing i would wake up in the psych ward again and laugh it all off over a few Lorazepam

—oh christ

i see it

shining and wonderful

i feel teeth graze the back of my hospital gown

i dive towards the foot of the bed

i feel my uncuffed hand grasping the hope of the handle as i swing it back around

i feel its barrel against her skull

i feel myself scream useless and weak

i feel the relief of my finger crying out red and yellow

i feel her slump on top of me

limp and silent.

i can't do anything but sit there

—shit

—shit shit shit shit shit shit

—shit.

i push her off me

the sober reality finally setting in

i'm really here.

the end of the line.

—fuck

luck is on my side

sort of.

i find a key under the bed

by some act of god i hear the click as the handcuffs slide off

rubbing my wrists, i stumble into the doorway

as i stare out into the hospital halls

the fluorescent lights flicker warnings

i slowly close my eyes, hoping against hope one last time

i can hear a faint shuffling in the distance

weak, slowly growing louder

a low moan echoes around the corner

i reply with a soft sigh

i can't help bringing my hands up behind my neck

locking my fingers in protest

trying to find some kind of temporary sanity

as i slump back down onto the bed

—black and white are all i see.