muse_shuffle | June Disc Two
Track 6. All mixed up in the wash // Hot water bleeding our colors
(Cold War Kids - ‘Hang Me Up To Dry’)
The hot tap was turned on to its full capacity, steaming hot jets spraying out into the bathroom sink. Riley stared down into the pink-tinged whirlpool and then looked up to stare at himself in the mirror above the rising line of steam fogging it up. His eyes looked sunken, red around the edges and dark underneath. His face was pale and drawn, his lips dry and cracked.
He swayed just slightly against the vanity, dizziness engulfing him like a sheet as he stared down at his hand. Dark red lines of blood streaked down his wrist and made their trail towards his elbow. His eyes fell closed and then he opened them again slowly with a small cough of numb laughter. On the vanity beside his other hand that was gripping the edge of the basin lay a sharp pair of scissors, more blood smeared across the blades and across the sink, bright scarlet red looking horrific against the pale porcelain. He stared just a moment more before a sob caught in his throat and his legs gave way. He sunk to the floor and curled up against the wall, clutching his wrist to his chest as he broke down in gut-wrenching tears. He had mind enough to wrap his hand with the fabric of his shirt and hold it tight to try and staunch the bleed, but nothing else came but drowning despair. Once the tears started, he felt like they would never stop.
And did it matter if they didn’t?
Words | 253
(Cold War Kids - ‘Hang Me Up To Dry’)
The hot tap was turned on to its full capacity, steaming hot jets spraying out into the bathroom sink. Riley stared down into the pink-tinged whirlpool and then looked up to stare at himself in the mirror above the rising line of steam fogging it up. His eyes looked sunken, red around the edges and dark underneath. His face was pale and drawn, his lips dry and cracked.
He swayed just slightly against the vanity, dizziness engulfing him like a sheet as he stared down at his hand. Dark red lines of blood streaked down his wrist and made their trail towards his elbow. His eyes fell closed and then he opened them again slowly with a small cough of numb laughter. On the vanity beside his other hand that was gripping the edge of the basin lay a sharp pair of scissors, more blood smeared across the blades and across the sink, bright scarlet red looking horrific against the pale porcelain. He stared just a moment more before a sob caught in his throat and his legs gave way. He sunk to the floor and curled up against the wall, clutching his wrist to his chest as he broke down in gut-wrenching tears. He had mind enough to wrap his hand with the fabric of his shirt and hold it tight to try and staunch the bleed, but nothing else came but drowning despair. Once the tears started, he felt like they would never stop.
And did it matter if they didn’t?
Words | 253