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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 29-May 15:37:07 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 118586
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => ((under doll's finger))
[time] => 2006-04-19 03:30:03
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => ((under doll's finger)) white shirt cuff these fingers move sporadically these fingers lie still, they throb and pulse see this cut here and burn here so very beaten these fingers lie and stained red all over. I’m here at home and my heart is two ways and always in half, is seemingly Apart, is never alone, is tearing flesh rotting in a bucket in a tree. Red brick and concrete, silver spoons and spheres, I twitch to shake my head inside my mind enrages whimpering. Sorrow never noticed, cobbled gutters and rain, Wooden slivers under doll’s finger nails and the taste of rust in your tongue. Blood and metal are orbiting eyeshadows, outline a dejected perspective. When you or they, the masses unknown, when I turn my chin drips with rain drops up to the grey sky behind me, Rain in my eyes. The smell of wet warm corn husks and dirt, cow ***** that you find pleasant, church pastors and their wives, their flourbiscuits and homemade raspberry jams sweet and bitter, nice houses with attics overlooking Fields and all is rain in my eyes and I remember almost none of it and miss it all in entirety. Never having tasted or smelled such as such since, or before for all intents and purposes, yesterday was when I was not what I am now is not yesterday or today is not difficult to define but only to realize. Rain in my eyes; never longer covering bees with buckets, riding green plastic motorcycles the size of my hand along pale with paint green railings and never Again shall I see it all after under the lawnmower, it’s all over, it’s all in pieces and I didn’t cry but felt green to grey colour slip away, cutting helicopter blades couldn’t fly. [2006-04-18 22:52:29] [comments] => 1 [counter] => 201 [topic] => 75 [informant] => SensitiveSoAbused [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 11 [ratings] => 3 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => anguished )
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