flesh_fly raze there's a fly at the bottom of the bottle. i drink the water anyway. it tastes like panic. it tastes like the end of me. it's sour and warm from sitting in the sun. the right side of my body goes numb. i swallow what i should spit out and beg for my life. i spent so many years wanting to die, and now that it's happening, now that it's here, i want to will it away. i open my mouth. the only word that comes out is please. i suck on the compound eyes of an insect that might have lived a month if it was lucky. my teeth dismantle what stopped stirring hours ago, the same way i'll be torn in two by the bridgework of my mind. i'll never get this taste out of my mouth. 220303 what's it to you? who go blather from