Excerpt from SUNSHINE AND MOLOTOV COCKTAILS

The horrifying little boy staring from the corner of my room just won’t leave and I’m pretty sure he hates me so please hurry and wake up.

Wake up and crush my eye socket in with a hammer.

Wake up and take my hands in yours and say, “Okay, I'm ready, it’s time for us to explode.”

Wake up and remind me that I'm not alone.

Wake up and tell me about your nightmare, the one where I'm a surgeon and you’re awake and I’m splicing you open with many crude tools.

Wake up in the middle of the night and roll over to touch me softly, make me flinch.

Wake up and erase my face with three hundred pressured kisses.

Wake up and yawn and look at me with eyes so tired that I feel kind of bad for wishing you would wake up.

Wake up and get dressed and walk out of my life forever.

Pretty please?

I will live forever in the theme music you sing to yourself while you chop peppers and onions.

When you smile, I’ll be the creases in your face.

I built a pillow fort deep inside your sweaty palms without you ever noticing.

And I will never die.

And maybe that’s even worse.


Your tiny hands were so delicate that I felt an intense urge to smash all of their bones whenever I held them.

I should have taken the opportunity to remove your tiny hands when I had the chance.

They are my favorite thing, your hands.

If I took them when I had the chance then I could have had them for forever.

I could have even crushed them into a pulp and drank a little bit of you with my morning smoothie.


My mouth is very dry and I want you to come back and make a home there.


I want you to paint the window shutters a pale yellow.

Fill my cavities with models of boats and pictures of your loved ones.

Decorate my insides with a multitude of knick-knacks.

Buy a cabinet and fill it with porcelain ballerinas.

Grow very old in this home in my mouth and eventually die there and let me swallow your corpse.
Let the home rot and turn grey and moldy and then let that mold turn to ash.

Once you do this, I promise to leave you alone forever.
Cavin Bryce Gonzalez lives in Florida with his hound dog and founded ‘Back Patio Press’ to have fun. His latest book can be found here.