Thunder

The light was assaulting. A blinding scream of electricity, launching into my skull. I tried to hide from it but the protection of my wafer lids was minimal, and the memory of it burnt enough to scathe. Was this heaven? I was struggling to remember a time before this moment, before this light. I knew this light, and only this light. This light was my spouse, my sibling, my self. But this light was unforgiving. It was naked and painfully true. It was the light of sobriety. I remembered something before this heaven. I knew it was not only this paradise I knew. A darkness crept into it - bleeding through my beautiful phosphorescent memory. An envious coal crimson of desire and destruction - it was tantalizing and horrifying. It smiled with blood stained lips and breathed an orgasmic perfume, my knees trembled at the memory of it. Knees. A body. I was more than the eyes that burnt and withered in this light. I tried to find my knees with the apotheosis of my apparent being - scanned the light for my body. I saw toes. I saw knees. I saw calf, thigh, cunt, stomach, breasts; me.

The light began to dull as I was permitted to feel my mind. Or rather it felt me, felt every nerve in my godforsaken justforgotten body. It shrieked at the abused limbs, howled across the corroded organs; whimpered in agony deep in my arteries cores. I ruined this body. Fed it the wrong fuel relentlessly and threw it across concrete and dance floors. It hated me passionately, a hatred reciprocated by my loathing of it. It didn't take my body long after awoken to feel the body next to it. My skin tingled in fear and disgust, prickled like a cat towards an enemy. As if anti-magnetized it began to creep away, towards the unfamiliar floor and away from the stranger's bed. My body stabbed against my mind, my skull trying to rid itself of the pulsing nemesis inside it. My hurried hands grasps at the clothes that hid my body's revulsion from the eyes of others, and from the sensibility of myself. There was bottles of liquor scattered all over, profoundly as empty as my heart felt. The place was somewhere I'd never seen; but the scenario was a frequent intruder. Slipping into shoes and slipping out the door I felt that darkness again. It was starving, the black; worn and desperate. It ate at me as I scanned the empty early morning street that met me after I closed the door on the intrusive truth of addiction. I blinked into the grey melancholy sky, repressing the tears of my realization. With a shudder I smiled into a practised mask of denial. The tears that dared battle through were rightfully executed by drops from the sad, lonely sky. The clouds were weeping for me. It was only a light drizzle, but I felt like I was going to drown.