Park Drunk
excerpt from ALL THE WAYS I KILLED MYSELF WHEN KILLING MYSELF DIDN’T WORK / published in Blue Mountain Review May 2023
There are nights you don't want to be alone. Not for any reason that garners help, but because you just crave the hum of company. Even from the guy who creeps you out. The one who shouldn't still be calling after you bailed, after you said you weren't interested. The one who said you could be friends through fake smiles and too much cologne.
There's a dream version of the night, drunk at the park where you reach into his stomach and pull out his intestines; your arms burrowing deep into esophageal spaces, removing his voice box and tossing it into the pond. Leaving him a shell. Fulfilling his promise and disarming his subtle intentions. Disarming the boy instead of all the alarms.