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Old Fridges

and shit mates!

By Brenton FPublished about a year ago Updated about a year ago 1 min read
4

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

surreal poetrysocial commentaryhow to
4

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

Link to Amazon

Reader insights

Nice work

Very well written. Keep up the good work!

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Comments (3)

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  • Rowan Finley 12 months ago

    Did this really happen to you?

  • Paul Stewart12 months ago

    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!

  • Jess Boyesabout a year ago

    Creepy with a bit of dark humour - I love it! :)

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