panic attack june 2, 2014 4:52am

right now,
in my mind,
you're
dead
with a needle
stuck in your
arm.
skin
pale blue
eyes still
open.

i'm going
to the bathroom
to puke,
and curl up
in a ball
on the
sand colored
square floor tiles,
as i watch my
phone until
i can't keep
my eyes open.

after i close the front door,
i slide a black ski mask
over my face,
and cover the grip
of the .38 sticking out
of the waistband of my jeans
with the black t-shirt
i'm wearing.

the piece is concealed,
unlike my motives;
i never wanted it
come to this.

before tonight,
i was non-violent.
sociable.
easy going.
amiable.
patient.

i have my shitty days,
just like everyone,
but i never take it out
on my friends,
or the people around me.

before tonight,
i was a giver.
if you ask me for an arm,
i would give you my own.

but that's all about to change.

tonight,
i stuck a pin
filled with venom
into the vein
on the crook
of my left arm,
and plunged it
into my bloodstream.

tonight,
i'm ready to
throw a brick
through your window,
rob you at gunpoint,
and cap you in the knee
so you can remember me
for the rest of your life.

tonight,
my smile doesn't
show teeth,
just barbedwire
and razorblades.

tonight,
i realized
to most people, 
i am a walking atm 
that spits out free money 
after they stick an i.o.u. 
written on 
a scrap piece of paper 
up my ass, 
and never pay me back. 

(i mean the least you can do is suck my dick while you're fucking me. right?)

tonight,
i am not a person.
i am not an atm machine.
generous.
understanding. 
nervous.
loving.
scared.

tonight,
i am a motherfucking shark
ready to bite your limbs,
eviscerate your vitals,
remove your bones,
and turn the water red
with your blood.

fuck you.
fuck all of you,
including myself.