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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 10-June 20:17:26 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 133197
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => The Brink
[time] => 2007-03-31 17:55:30
[hometext] => drug induced anxiety is so far the worst i got out of using :-( i just hate myself often.
[bodytext] => On the brink of sadness a creature sits with streaks of shadows on tight fists, unable to fight and bear those arms convulsively collapsing under mindless harms. Making up stories of perception they see, the ones down there she looks at in their impervious glee, and trying to reach but too scared to fall off. So much safer to stay up there. Hug her knees. Withdraw. And when they climb up to her fortress of ice with stone hard bed stained by tears of spice, she runs and collapses further away as she likes the feeling of the needle in the hay. Then, again, lays over the brink risking the fall, reaching for those who pass her in the hall. They look up and follow that outstretched hand to see a hopeful face in a soul drenching land. From interest to disdain their eyes take path. After seeing that once more she can do the math. So she runs and trips and lands further away, bleeding out spice and trying to pray, but when it all fails again and all stays the same she knows the cause as she's the one to blame. [comments] => 1 [counter] => 298 [topic] => 66 [informant] => ediii [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => drugabuse )
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