tweaker
by Lore Prior
my molars are dancing, tekka-tekking to the strung-out paint can groove of my heart. neck stiff as frozen. every time I look in the mirror I'm sweatier. pills taste sweet, but not like candy. the kind of sweet I think baby vomit is. someone cut me open, poured cement under my skin, and it's just starting to harden. 4 am's the same as noon. I somehow missed the moon. now I've turned yellow, mellow and greasy as popcorn butter. by the smell I might be decomposing… three showers later the stink's still there.
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i am very much liking the "tekka-tekking to the strung-out paint can groove of my heart." very cool. reminded me of a rave gone bad...
I'm with Ryder. I remember a student of mine chewing on her candy necklace in class many years ago. I can imagine this inside her head.
"4 am's the same as noon"--very strong. I can relate. Good piece, Lauren.