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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 03-June 07:38:08 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 109845
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => disasters in scope
[time] => 2005-11-16 06:40:41
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => my most pathetic hour was spent in her arms. i was weak then. my whole life had become one big hindenburg disaster. one holocaust after the other. my mother passed away a few years ago. cirrhosis, i’m sure. never questioned the coroners. i didn’t really want to know. i know my mother was weak, and i know i was exactly like her. not anymore. i’ve slaughtered every last feeling and memory in my brain. i am hollow… and it feels perfect. without the victims, there is no hindenburg. without the victims, there is no holocaust. without the victims, there is truth and there is contentment. [comments] => 2 [counter] => 149 [topic] => 13 [informant] => summers [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 4 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => DarkPoetry )
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