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Older material, when I was working through abuse. A little graphic. |
| one thing after another. one traumatic experience jumps down the throat of another, simultaneously tearing the limply beating heart from my chest. exaggerated startle response. excessive display of obsequious behavior. anxiety. phobia. flashbacks. a broken record film reel repeats the ominous motions of gray shadows in dark orange lamp light and every bone breaks and every nerve shorts like a severed wire... imaginary sparks fly from the hair dryer in my bath tub that rests with these still blue knees. find my happiness under the electric water, like happy scars beneath this melancholy flesh. wishing the days away and always never knowing the truth about anything life just has to get better. "It can't rain all the time." HOPE |