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Escapism as a form of affection Even when I close my eyes I can feel my disfigurements emerging My head is too heavy for sleep The oozing, the subtle sting, the infinite burning, the bandages; life pours out of my sutures and gaping incisions My real self is a part of my past I cannot feel my face I cannot save myself from my thoughts I am as much of a ********** as I am a parasite; flesh is the ultimate interloper and my organs are divided into spheres of influence My body is colonized and turned into the birthplace of my disease
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Nov 17, 2014
Nov 17, 2014 at 3:57 PM UTC
Morning Wound
Escapism as a form of affection Even when I close my eyes I can feel my disfigurements emerging My head is too heavy for sleep The oozing, the subtle sting, the infinite burning, the bandages; life pours out of my sutures and gaping incisions My real self is a part of my past I cannot feel my face I cannot save myself from my thoughts I am as much of a ********** as I am a parasite; flesh is the ultimate interloper and my organs are divided into spheres of influence My body is colonized and turned into the birthplace of my disease
joe-satkowski
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Nov 17, 2014
Nov 17, 2014 at 3:57 PM UTC
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