Magnesium Daydream

Blaring music, just a bit too loud. CD Ghost, prefect for a hopeless-hapless romantic to blow his brains out to.

Sprawled on a cheesy heart-shaped bed, rotating slowly. Staring at the horribly patinaed ceiling mirror through magenta sunglasses. Half-empty bottle of peach schnapps, 2 glasses. Puff of a shitty e-cig.

Too, broke for a fast way out, too scared of pain and God smiting a withered soul for a slow and painful exit. Slow-mow death by a infinitely recursive shattered heart.

No one around. Phantoms of current and past loves all facing away, only in the mirror anyway they were never there.

Check the unfiltered-access-to-the-warp device 500 times, nothing. Eternally 3:20am.

Twenty-nth Century Nightmare, slip into that Magnesium Daydream, hope the phantom looks at me again.

Chittering insomnia, purgatorial brain haze. Guts and heart writhing and wrenching like snakes with traumatic brain injuries.

Nothing beyond the black walls, no one looking or thinking of the poor sap in the room. He meant nothing, accomplished nothing, just think and dream and anguish.