Under the Covers

I pull my body out from under the covers like I’m pulling a blade from my stomach. So hungover. Sharp pains on either side of my head. A weird sloshy feeling in my abdomen. But in this bed I feel safe like I am in a cellar with only one way out, that has a door with four bolts on it. Locked shut. But my alarm keeps ringing. Ringing. RINGING. RINGING! God dammit. And so I get up, and turn the thing off, only to watch my guts run from my body and spill out over these sheets. I look down at the mess on my bed. Fuck. I hold the rest of my intestines in with a hand pressed to the wound, but I can’t hold all of it. I start to feel lightheaded. And woozy. And then I fall back into bed and fall back asleep.

19 responses to “Under the Covers”

  1. ” I look down at the mess on my bed. Fuck. I hold the rest of my intestines in with a hand pressed to the wound, but I can’t hold all of it.”
    This is brilliant imagery, Lou.
    I’ve never had a hangover like this, and now, I hope I never do. 😐

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: