HEADACHE

        Wait for the medicine to kick in. The strain in my neck unbearable. The sides of my head caving in. Biting my lips off, fearful.

         Thousand yard gaze. Staring into space in a daze. Sitting for what seems like days. Raising my fears, holding back tears. Void of emotion. Seasick from the invisible ocean.

          Imagining ripping a man's face apart, turning the wall behind him into a work of art. Lifting his head up high, dropping it on my knee for a relieving break. All this for the simple fact that I have a headache.

          How many pounds per square inch does it take to make a person's cranium pop. Or how high of a drop. If anyone screamed, would I stop? Would I be capable of deciphering voices whilst seeing red? Or would I continue even after the bastard is dead?

          My feet sweat when I get these images in my head. My first sign of anxiety and excitement. Delightful scenes, played out in a quick jumpy hi-8 style film. My eyes begin to wander from my attention deficit. Fidgety fingers, tasting blood, gazing for miles.

I feel as though.

If I killed one man. Just one.

The rest of my life would be so much easier.

And void of headaches.