Basic Instinct

Were these wretched roads always been this dark! These lights are not supposed to give up. Its there moral obligation and ethical slavery's code. Should i call it uprising or revolution? All i need to do is keep alive, man's greatest instinct "survival". Half an hour more.

My body is trying to lay flat on the ground. My chin wants to rest on my knees. Convoluted it may seem, its the most obvious act, an unborn child. When the last slit of eyes are closed, when the downer gets the reign of you, only stream of thought prevails. And stream knows no boundaries.

She can feel my hands around her. Her lips are choking me. Her eyes, from the shade of orgasmic lustre melts into deathly laughter. I turned down my eyes, but its not me. That was smile was not mend for me. Her face is lighted up with the orgasmic pain, his thrusts are savage. Her face tells that this all overrated love. My lower lips still won't give up its perfect semi-circle, numb brain's fall-back. In the empty space, I can listen the drunk voices and vile words. Wish that pillow could have been thicker. Tomorrow I have to read about acoustics more. Suddenly those hands come to her instead of getting heavenly pleasure from the hands on her little lumps of flesh. I can see the terror. Her brain tries to form a word, a name , to shriek. But she knows silently sobbing is the only option. She comes to me, as if nothing happened, as my saviour as my acoustic support. There is hot streams flowing out from the voids of my face.

Sudden screeching sound of tire, a shriek for the lost leg and after a silence a hue and cry for the lost love. My mind is still fighting for consciousness. Parallel red stripes on the road leads to the raw flesh which is torn apart out of its package. My legs started moving in opposite direction with my eyes wide open and straight marking of lips on my face. My survival instinct is still on the war with numbness. I can feel the vertigo as i walk along the sideways of the bridge. Vertigo is tempting, i can feel myself converging to the borders of the bridge. A deep breadth took a heavy gulp of air inside. Feet turned to the mid of the bridge. I gave myself to my instinct. Again a screeching sound, sudden upsurge of fear killed by old-know melodious lines " u lying, trying waste of skin, my old mind, a song to say goodbye". A voice came out of car, "Dude, there are only 5 beers and u have to be unlucky by one." I looked back , I can see two cockroaches lying on the road. First straight lines of my lips, loosen its ways to create an unknown curve, dubious way of smile. Look my cellphone out. Fingers ran on 102. I wish i could stay but clock is ticking.