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Dec 2013
Your hands cling to the rim of the toilet.
Blood drips out of your mouth into the porcelain bowl.
A throbbing pain is in your side.  

The last thing you remember:
Sitting on the bridge,
It was dusk.
Her hand in yours, and leaves falling all around.
A family of ducks floating down the River.
She pulls out something shiny;
She loves anything sharp, anything shiny.
You feel a sudden pain in your side.

Next thing you know:
Tied to a chair,
Broken ribs,
Blood everywhere.
The pain in your side ceases to throb, and pulsate.
Everywhere is dark,  
Except where you sit, tied.
You can hear faint breathing,
Until the light diminishes altogether.
You know you're not alone. . .
You're here with those eyes you look into every morning,  
And something shiny.
septemb3r
Written by
septemb3r
  809
     ---, rained-on parade, st64 and Nik Roberts
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