APRIL 2009

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Vegas Blood Themed Three Day
By xTx, Jan 29, 2009

Every day with the blood. Unavoidable like a shadow on a shoreline. It came to me iced, on trays, with Absolut and a thin red straw. It came to me between my legs like an annoying brat clinging to my pant leg I could not ignore. It came from my nostrils, warm, metallic, pretty. Spartan red appropriate. Vegas was silently, invisibly, beating me bloody symbolically.

Half-drunk, late night, bathroom mirror stare. Aberrantly letting the blood run down my face, nose to chin, feeling it slick and tickling, watching it grow like a lie. Drops exploding like shotgun brain matter into the white sink. Little bars of soap. Little bottles of shampoo. A makeup bag. Hairspray. Cold bare feet. Panties sagging I stared at my twin through that numb, comfortable fog that alcohol brings. Red vertical stripe blazing into drips. I licked it with my tongue and liked it. Thatís when I wanted to see more blood on my face. An abrupt desire to be punched. In the forehead. In the eye socket. In the mouth. Brutal bruised wounds, split lips. Blackened swollen eyes and red clotted hair clinging to fractured face. Not so much the pain, but the aftermath. I wanted to see a horror show on my face.

It would look cool for three minutes and then Iíd want it gone.

I washed my face with cold water, wadded up some Kleenex and shoved it up my right nostril. Cleaned the sink. I grabbed a tampon, bit off the plastic wrapper like a hand grenade pin, and shoved it up inside me. Fire in the hole. Then I went to bed and slept off the Bloody Marys that had been keeping me company at the roulette tables all night long.

xTx has been published in Thieves Jargon, Cherry Bleeds, Mourning Silence, Zygote and is upcoming in DOGZPLOT and Robot Melon. She still wants more blood on her face.

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