Blue-Black Memory: Addicted to Life

February 26, 2008
Glazed eyes gazing blindly into the dark roof of the cavern. The drip dripping of the rock formations nearly overshadowed by ragged, painful breaths refuses to fade and cuts the mask of unconsciousness like a sharp dagger still stained with ancient bloods. Gasping, choking, yet I stand there watching, waiting for death to come. The smell, intoxicating, is driving me beyond the zigzagging edges of insanity. Like rust and salt and metal all rolled into one; drool escapes the nightmare confines of my lips and glides down my chin, ever so slowly only to lose the race against the steady drip dripping of the rocks. Thud...thud. A heart is slowing and the rush of anticipation is all-consuming. All this, all my existence, lived, for this one beautiful moment; when another life fades in order to restore my own. Soon, but an eternity later, the moment passes; I’m craving again.

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