Jamie woke this morning into the silence of golden air filled box

He felt free and liberated vindicated for every thought that was about to

Come and leave his mind.

Sitting up, he wiped the crusty mess from the corners of his eyes

And noticed he was still wearing the clothes from the previous day

A black sweater, black short sleeve shirt, and black jeans

That seemed …to be filled with perspiration

Jamie shrugged his shoulders’, reached for his slippers and glasses

There’s a nail in not so flush with the floor that Jamie never thinks of until

He ruins a pair of sock on, so he uses it to trigger the ritual of putting on the glasses and slippers

Not to scar the souls of his feet

 

Standing at the toilet, the tiny bubbles look as if it were a vagina

Changing into a tunnel that he would look down into and wake up once again

 

He was back in his bed

Rubbing the crud from his eyes, covered with what seemed to be the sweat of the night

The heat wasn’t on but then blanket was warm

Jamie then rolled over and notice there weren’t any noises

No chirping birds, no cat’s meow

Not even the rattling thoughts in his head

He sat up, only …to find himself waking up again

He rolled over and felt the wetness of the sweat from the previous night

And had a strange thought go through his head

As he noticed there were no sounds of morning that he was so used to hearing

That he was dripping wet, had a headache and the room was filled with a peculiar smell

He sat up and realizes that he’d awaken into a pool of his own secretions

Blood and piss, vomit all over the floor

Arms shredded from cutting for so many months

He had done it

He was dead, no doubt about it

He finally did it

He didn’t feel a thing but a headache that would only get worse as time went on.

This scenario progressively got worse the more he tried to wake

It wasn’t a dream Jamie had, killed himself

Empty bottles of booze, pills across the floor and bed

Unconsumed street drugs and a headache that would lead him to believe that maybe he wasn’t dead

No

He had killed himself and this was his hell

He would continually wake and the program would continue like a bad rerun or a good movie where the most fucked up scene just looped forever

And he never gets much further than the foaming vagina in the bathroom

 

In the apartment next door, I sat at my computer and heard Jamie cry

I tried not to listen

Because everybody cries when the first get to hell

Welcome home Jamie, you finally made it.

I’m sharpening my shaver …so I can cut my wrist again

It’s easy when you do enough painkillers and watch porn for a distraction

 

You’ll never feel it, or notice you’re doing it

And bleeding out gives such a rush

There’s no high like it

Maybe I’ll see you after you’ve checked …checked out.