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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 10-June 22:20:04 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 69106
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => The sweet smell of innocence
[time] => 2004-10-27 17:57:38
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => My mother screams, “come out, come out!” My brain is screaming, “burn them all to the ground... self abuse and self destruct!” And I’m feeling so utterly helpless to stop it. There are two sides to the door. On one, my mum is trying to bash her way in. On the other I’m trying to kill it all away. The night I bashed my head on the porcelain bath, And tried to drown myself, is a night I’ll not soon forget. Not because of what I did, but why I did it. I was soulless therein after. A part of me drowned and died. And I had lost more innocence that night than any other. More than I had lost when I first had sex... More than I had lost when I buried my Dayva... I cant explain how or why, But I was childlike no more that night I tried to kill myself. [comments] => 0 [counter] => 141 [topic] => 13 [informant] => surge_joebot [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => DarkPoetry )
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