Monday, January 5, 2009

hell

07.21.07

Lying here



i smell like my mother
when she doesn't shower

i have never heard a sound
so sad
as the voice announcing:
"visiting hours are over"

accompanied by the endless ticking & clicking of needles pricking the surface of my being

vital small talk distracts the veins through
the latex
practice of blood thievery...

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