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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 10-June 20:14:57 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 76338
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Cold
[time] => 2004-12-18 12:22:16
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => black is the purest form of entrapment. it can spill you on the floor, all slithering and oily, splashes red and streaked like blood. you'll hold my pain like a trophy, stroke its golden surface. (you always loved the shiny things) my coffin was silver with gold trim. you loved that one too. i looked up from the open casket, holding pen, steel cage, glass prison. i looked up at you and watched your face as i said, "even when i was alive, i was just as cold as i am now." you froze and sank, like a stone in a blood bath. like a match to the bottom of a tank full of gasoline. you froze. and sank. (i saw you hit bottom) [comments] => 1 [counter] => 148 [topic] => 13 [informant] => xXx_kiss_xXx [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => DarkPoetry )
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