A THING by D. H. LANE
that time i greened out at a childhood best friend’s house while watching the shining
i learned a lesson on a saturday night in the bed of somebody i don’t talk to anymore.
the lights were a dance floor and the skin behind my skull trailed down my spine like arctic water.
her heart was beating a song, and mine was beating a 128.
mouth dry and legs twitching, breathing in slow motion, euphoria falling
falling the moon dangles through the window taunting the tears glistening crystal fractals on my cheeks.
how do you feel, i ask. she laughs popcorn kernels popping, staring at the movie in front of us. i feel fucking amazing. we watch wendy run through redrum halls
hot shame coals under my feet at my wanting it to be over, already seduced by the thought of nestling
in my bed soberheaded and ribs empty. not anything to dream of but at least stagnancy is easy to predict
being put out of my misery was just being plunged deeper below the ice.
i’m naming three things i can see and two things i can feel, however it goes. i change it every time
to be honest and what i taste is the beforethought of throwing up, stomach marinade
i’m sorry, i don’t know why i’m like this, i tell her. i’ve been high before and never freaked the fuck out.
her smile curtsies across her face and she mentions my medicine which has already given me insomnia
so i’m home now and i’m lying to my parents because it’s second nature when they more than ever
look like they want to hang me by the skin on their coat rack. i rerun the shining alone in the dark
when i wake up it’s on a crucifix, pinned down like a house pest
a sinister man with an axe is laughing, stomping around in my cerebral cortex like he’s renting a room in my body to torment to torment to torment. all work and no play makes jack a dull boy, so it’s just another notch in my belt, another shitshow trading card, the more i pollute my dna. the man knows i am back to earth and he wants more than anything for me to regret it.
d. h. lane (he/she) is a linguistics undergrad at syracuse university who is likely still trying figure out how to manage her time. you can find his works at beloved zine, dog teeth, swim press, and on substack at delightfullyunhinged.substack.com. she can be found at (twt) @schrdingersdyke (or insta) @del.pdf.