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Mar 2014
featureless eyes propel borderline perverseness

my finger breaks sharply as i press record

the phone line stretched of its own accord

stop and pause but don't turn back

a whimpering couch held up by ropes

emulsified beginnings of dreams and hopes

she paints pain, holes lead to nowhere

lesions torn, shriveled stalk, i care

my shell broken, becomes hair, i tear

***** from my eyes into her mouth

an acetate surfaces to the edge of my mind

i cant speak or see, for i am blind

ink, blood and snot slick my skin

my mirror haunted by the perspex grin

grab hold but the wrists are thin

broken

crushed

swept under

dead

you mean nothing
2010
Connor Reid
Written by
Connor Reid  Glasgow
(Glasgow)   
377
 
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