locked inside an old fridge
at the tip just out of town
there is no light i cannot see
and all i can smell is brown
my mates all said this'll be fun
and pushed me in to make me fit
i didn't think until the door snicked shut
and now i'm really in the shit
my crazy racing pulse is helping
to deplete a limited oxygen supply
a little voice inside me is saying
"don't worry it's just another kind of high"
i bang and pummel the door
to no avail, its shut good and fast
i've scratched my fingers bloody to the bone
my demise will soon came to pass
my limited air supply is thinning
i see phosphenes in this muted black
the end of my time a stretched out thin line
and i wish i could take it all back
About the Creator
Brenton F
I've beared no sick words
Junk words, love words
Fuck you words from Jesus
Lowlife: Jesus and Mary Chain
- - -
I have an eBook, a collection of my favourite pieces
Comments (3)
Did this really happen to you?
Damn, Brenton! You always know how to ride the line between surreal, dark as anything and hilarious! Loved it and there was some amazing tension building with this one!
Creepy with a bit of dark humour - I love it! :)