Wrote this after guitar broke and computer died. I just anticipated the next thing was carpal tunnel so I couldn't write anymore (hint: I was close).
My neck broke and took the strings with it. This hollowed body is no use without fingers grinding my veins. Red, but not from life. As stiff and lifeless as a chopped down tree, but never as strong as it had once stood. The wiring is severed; nothing connects inside of me, it all stumbles around aimlessly within the gravity-less pull of my organs.
My discs won’t spin anymore. I can’t read anything. Time is slowly scratching everything out of my memory. Click. Click. Click. And then: flashing. Rather, blinking. A dull, dumbeyed glassy look. Gin and catatonic.
My hand now disobeys the commands of the mind-brain question. First my thumb stopped responding. From there it straddled the curve between the palm and backhand ever so carefully, ignoring the freckle speedbump. The nails stopped growing: it was futile to claw at the walls. No light at the end of this tunnel.
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