The Lid
I can’t get the lid off. I can’t get the lid off. I can’t get the lid off. I need what’s inside. My head is going to explode if I don’t get those little round pills out right now.
The vein on my forehead is starting to throb. I can see it pulsating in the mirror over the bathroom sink. I can see my red eyes, pupils fully dilated until there’s nothing of my iris but a thin blue line, separating black from red.
The change is coming, and it’s almost too late. Should I keep trying, or get the handcuffs so no one else has to get hurt? Three minutes, that’s all I have left once the pupils go before things start getting out of control.
I can’t get the lid off… I can’t get the lid off… I can’t get the lid off.