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Sorcha Hannigan Sorcha Hannigan
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She had a friend.


86400 seconds.

Tick tick tick tick ti-

86407 seconds.

The clock ticks faster- uncontrollably faster with every second. Every life giving, death evading second that ticks faster and faster and faster and fa-

86416 seconds.

You’re closer now-

Can you feel it? The hairs on your arms raising, raising. Your heart is beating, beating, beating. Thumping against the shallow cage of bone, ribs expanding with every breath. Existence giving breath, converting oxygen into something more, something toxic.

8679 seconds.

Can you taste it? The air being sucked through the parted whole of cushioned lip, being drawn deep, deep, deep into your lungs. Is it clean, my love? Is it fresh?

You never did keep your promise, sugar. You never did come home. You left me, brideless and lifeless, on this very step where I sit now. You walked out of that door, 8710 seconds ago.

Can you see me, darling? Are you proud?

You don’t remember, do you? It’s been 8894 seconds, and you have forgotten. The gap between sadness and profanity-infused denial is growing smaller, darling. You count your steps, steps away from me and away from the silky threadbare cobweb of my undying infatuation.  

You’re too much.

You cry when the butterfly falls from the sky, the flower sheds its last fraying petal, the ant breaths its last tiny breath, and yet- nothing.  When you crushed my soul, my being, slaughtered every last shred of cautious optimism I had left in the cavernous pit of my carnivorous heart, you grinned with your wolfish teeth.

You bird-boned beast, coldcoldcold, and yet so tantalizingly hot, to even gaze upon your spectral beauty scorches me.  To even utter your name, to string those letters together in such a way to reveal forbidden truths is agonizing. Do you understand, darling? When you smiled as I was crumpled on the floor, blood and words and bile-covered sentiments of all we were (stillcouldbe) leaking from my sorry mouth.

Barley there and hardly caring, my weighted existence dependent on your acceptance. Is it gone, darling? Muffled shrieks in a muted voice, I cannot, nor shall not, talk. I daren’t, for do you listen? Will you hear me? If I was to call, would you come running? You have found you heav’n, your perfection, your nirvana, but it is not with me. The pauper shall not marry the princess; the beast shall not lay with the lamb.

It’s been 2628000 seconds, darling. Are you counting with me?

It rained, on your birthday. I know you hated the rain. It hammers on the pane of the hollow heart, piece by sorry piece being eroded by the purest liquid known to man. It falls from my eyes. You have never seen it, never would believe it, but it does. It falls from my eyes in the heaviest drops, pooling at my sorry toes. Even they yearn for you.

You smile like you’re living, blink like you’re breathing but think like you’re dead- a whisper to the breeze, gone without a second thought and care, you do not. You’re just noise in an empty shell, systematic to the masses but when you leave- do you even make a sound? Are you talking now, Darling? Do you thinkbreatheeatsleeplive?

The world is full of rats. The vermin prowl and the traps are hungry. Call pest control, because these fuckers are going nowhere. Gas them, stamp them, cut of their tails and pull out their teeth- and yet the spawn continually and unmistakably arise from the center of this godawful sphere, sour to the taste and bitter to the tongue. Can you smell them? The stench of success, gorgeouslygross decaying fantasies. Do you smell it, darling?

Snatched moments of sleep, and it’s really been years. Years since I saw your face, breathed your smell, tasted your skin- and it feels like seconds. 6 seconds, 9 seconds, 7396 seconds- countless numbers but endless moments. No machine and barley noticing. I
lost control when I lost your face.

Penny for your thoughts. Dollar for your life.

The old man in the mirror stares back at me,

A second too long,

A life too short,

The place I have come to fear the most

Is inside my own head.

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