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August 1997 - The softest bed
The softest bed Your soft skin...is a bed. Where I left my suffering and forgot the pain. You are now only a distant memory. Yet I remember, the blood, dripping from our sex stained sheets to your carpet. You were lying there all fucked up and beautiful, with your hands and legs bound with rags. Two machine-made holes, in your body. I put them there yet felt nothing. What did it feel like to breathe? When I put my knife your chest to finish you off? Time. Time...asphyxia. Dead inside, I can’t distinguish me from you. Dead inside, I can’t distinguish me from you. My friend pain left me numb and I can feel it all at once and yet none. The hands, hair and pillows I caress with emotionless love. The fixated stare that makes sense in knowing you left me long ago. All see is futility. All I believe is futility. Time. Time...asphyxia.
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