john travolta and i i eating hamburgers and toting guns, driving down endless highways in endless orange and purple sunsets. drive straight down the gullet, splash into the belly and surf bile until flushed onto the overexposed beaches of silence.
running down an endless hallway of doors, slamming them. all of them. flinging my body through frames, smashing everything shut behind me. turning locks, bolting heavily, not stopping until the last door. and stepping inside. and closing it gently and firmly. sliding my back down the cool wood and coming to rest.
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