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Xerxes

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Xerxes

Exit 123

It's the taste in my mouth when I'm comatose, the smell of the carpet when I'm coming to, it's biting a busted lip, a deviant's aim, it's forcing pain, it's filling the cave where there is usually nothing. Usually nothing is better than being awake; it makes me think of my own interchange, the pieces of me that are misfiring, Silence 'til I'm driving and I can't see straight. This migraine, I feel machinery shake, a breakneck pace to a brake, and I've reached the exit, I'm at the exit.
It's so quiet so I shut up, but when I talk it's like not even I can hear me.