🄰 🅂🄿🅈 🄸🄽 🅃🄷🄴 🄷🄾🅄🅂🄴 🄾🄵 🄻🄾🅅🄴
David San Miguel
Couldn’t punch fast enough— REM atonia.
Zolpidem.
Nothingness.
The sun beats.
Escitalopram.
Warmth.
Joie de vivre.
A pit in the tummy.
No.
Just an empty stomach.
Pan Au Chocolat.
Ethiopian.
Marlboro Gold.
Methylphenidate.
Coherence.
Microdose self mythology.
Make it make sense.
Blue pill.
The healthy animal is up and doing.
Don’t let it Hermann Nitsch you, little lamb.
Chills.
No.
A slight breeze.
Speech to text.
Moves tonight question mark.
The Hills.
Dead ass.
Love reaction.
Methylenedioxy-methylamphetamine.
Live fast.
Don’t die.
Joy Williams for the soul.
Carson.
Bolaño.
Lispector.
Get the words out.
Inhabit them.
Benzo.
Bonne soirée.
Pay no worship to the garish moon.
Pick me up.
1942.
Neat.
Down the hatch.
C17H21NO4.
Pulverized.
Up the chute.
Pick me up.
Uber Black.
I have drunk the drug of forgetfulness.
Pick up the phone.
Pisces.
Password.
On the list.
Inside.
Inside me, there’ll always be the person I am tonight.
Nothingness.
Fade to black.
David San Miguel is a writer in Los Angeles.