If I die and go to Hell real soon. It will appear to me as this room. And for eternity, I'd lay in bed. In my boxers, half stoned. With the pillow under my head.
All the words in my mouth that the scene deemed. Unworthy of letting out banded together. To form a makeshift militia and burrowed. Bloodily through my tongue and my teeth.
The girl can move and she did. We were captives on a casino ship. Where the Midwest lay out hours and burnt to crisp. I spent a year as her hair lip. But now I fall apart at night and dream about our trip.