if love is a drug i guess we're all sober
I open my mouth and my words die in my throat. You may say that they don't die, but I can feel them. Their decaying bodies pile up, leaving behind a bad taste. It makes me want to retch, but I don't. My mouth closes tightly again. The attempt to speak was a failure and I sit down silently.
I feel them dying and it makes me want to cry. This panic that I feel is what kills them, I know. They resent me for causing their premature death, for not letting them live. They resent me and my stomach churns with the stench that only I can smell. The words die and dread fills my stomach. I inhale the acrid scent of decaying bodies.
My mouth is open in a silent scream. Silent because all my words are dead. Dead and decaying in my throat. My mind races with one thought, one accusation:
Murderer.
I am a murderer.
I kill the words that I try to speak and this is my punishment. Their decayed remains haunt me. The stench makes me want to retch, but as I stand over the sink, water running, I am unable. My stomach is empty.
I am asked a question, but the words do not reach me. There is buzzing and static and they are distorted and I am afraid. I am terrified of the woman's words, of her face which looks angry and murderous.
“HamieoapAreklgjghYoulksdjiOkayjkjlka?”
Tears roll down my cheeks and I run. Terrified, the words do not leave my throat and they die again. The pile of bodies is getting larger, the taste of their decay overbearing. It is all that I can taste, all that I can smell.
The dead words laugh at me and their face is that of the woman in the bathroom. They laugh at me and more words are slaughtered to send their message to me. It is a message that should have been clear to me, far before this had happened:
You can not escape.
That is the message that their decaying bodies spells out for me, and this time the tears are a relief. The salt water washes away the stench, briefly, and I can think clearly for the moment that it is gone.
There is no escape from this hell.
My dead words pile up in my throat and it is hard to breathe.
My dead words choke me and the tears sting my eyes.
This is my punishment.