Promise me… Promise you won’t forget about me…

One.
Last.
Bottle.

Of spoiled water.

Viscous liquid warming my flesh.

Dreams…
All sorts of dreams exist.
But there can’t be no good ones.
Resting exposes you to their influence, and you can only hope on their mercy to show up. If not, good luck. As intended with all I had already done and could get done in the future, I could argue that I’m not a lucky person. A just retribution for being unjust.
Because work implies : not letting anyone a chance.

Under the squalid lights of a decayed street club, some were scattering their chests, decadent jaded ballerinas, gnat meat on rotten sticks, shattering, spraying their essences onto other people, the pillars, the walls, to the four rounded corners of the place.

Enlivened by the despair of their own lives, vigorous illusion, tormented display of a result of this society.

The beverage, noiselessly, poured all over my face, into my eyes, my nose, my ears, filling my space, flowing down my throat as I choked vehemently with a weak bird voice tear.

I didn’t want to die, I didn’t want to die, I didn’t want to die.

I collapsed on the floor, two fingers deep in my throat.
I searched, spasms running my body rigid and slippery, hardening the task. I searched for my tongue, limp and inert, morsel of dead mucosa.
Without time to ponder, I dived a hand profound to follow the other and spread wide opened my jaws, shaking my shuddered head possessed by the immortals thoughts of a place between death and something worse.

You have to promise me… Otherwise it won’t be fair.
After all, I told you, right ?
I told you my name…

Splattered all over the composite floor, mischievous, roguish, tattoos of indignity. A part of me, blood emesis, vomit and scents from the abyss of hell.
Lost psyches gathered round and started distributing their graved glares, spiking, piercing my peel, roosting where it had to hurt. Because it had to hurt.
People were meant to hurt each other.

In the blackness, vivid traveling colored lights shone on few of the nameless faces. They weren’t even looking at me. They were looking through me. They were looking at the corpse of a wasted tramp, a left away outcast, who let the balance tip under the weight of consequences, guzzled in a place… A place none would know.

I think I saw one approach, lick the floor…

My eyelids clouted to my nose,
I fell into an atom world, jailed in a hollow…
Slipping in a place none would know.

Somewhere anywhere.

My name.
Remember it.
My name is…