1530. i've got this pimple on my cheeks which i had to scratch out. it bled a dull colour of red. lifeless and torpid, a putrid smell emitted from the orifice as it glistened in the dim bathroom light.
i looked myself in the mirror, a bar of maroon ran down to my chin from bout an inch or two below my right eye. then i realised it wasnt an acne. the hair on my nape stood when i saw the object in my bloodied fingers stared straight back at me.
its pupil were slightly tainted with the brown of rust and the whites bloodshot from the sleepless nighttime and wakeless daytime; my own squishy eyeball in my very hand.
i gazed once more into the mirror. both my eyes were intact. blood still continued to pour from the socket where the freshly dug eye used to be. and when i turned to my left cheek, there was the fourth...
i was sitting on my bed, feeling a little warmth on the left side of my face. i touched it and there actually was blood. but it came from a pimple, nothing more, and the eyeball digging was merely a dream.
funny how my head fabricate such dreams when im stealing a moment for a short afternoon nap rather than during a long night's slumber.
3 comments:
reminds me of the time you tried to shave your nose off dude...
HAHAH i REMEMBER THAT TOO
it wasnt anything michael jackson-ish. it was merely a chunk of flesh from my nose.
but it did bleed well. very well.
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