Stream

Theres smoke rising from the crematorium and I wonder who is being burnt.

I see..smoke..rising..and there is someones soul floating away with it. Up, somewhere.

Take me with you.

I wouldn't mind riding that smoky wave..not being able to feel it, or taste it. The taste of smoke is guttural..like gunpowder on your tongue. Your smell and taste combine to produce chalkiness on your tongue.

Like Mary Poppins' stairway to heaven.

And I see myself in my reflection. There are tears on my reflection. Raindrops on the reflection's face. Where did the tears go, and did they dry up on the solid me? I have to breathe.

Open the window. Must breathe. And I bite my lip so hard I bleed. Gasp. And the reflection is gone. Shattered and warped and gone with its false tears.

Too many pills.. Too much vodka.. Theres no reason to still feel. I'll fail. And the heater flicks on and off. And There are tears on the solid me. And, how odd. My breath is short and gasping. And my eyes..they don't see..and my lips taste blood..

You can taste it. But you cannot feel it. The pills work. The alcohol works.

They were all yellow..

I dreamed about my Volvo. It was a bicycle..I rode in the rain. With my sat nav on the handlebars. I could go underwater. but only in the dark. And it was numb and cold in the water. It flooded at night..and I rode on, on my Volvo. In the dark, wet cold.

I fell off my Volvo and my sat nav broke..I woke up in a pool of sweat and tears.

Poor Volvo.

The colours have gone now. Everything is a shade of grey..my eyes burn from the salt and the pain and I blink, again and again. Still grey. Blink, again and again.

There is more pain. In the heart. It is science. Bits in the mind related to physical pain activate from the heart. The heartbroken. The ache is real.

There's salt on my face. I don't like it. It dries hard. My face cracks. Crunchy skin. Grey, in the dark.

My foot's fallen asleep. My back is shattered. My mind is numb. My hair is wet. My head hurts.

I am unhappy, like you said. I only write when I'm sad. Yes, you said.

Everyone is right except me.