Railroad Tracks going up and down her arms. A magnificent bloody detailed needlepoint. Crack pipe blues. Give me an avalanche of poison for my rebirth.
You don’t understand my journey. It is one of withdrawal.
I.V. Drip, Drip, Drip, Drip
Glazed look in his eyes transfers to me giving me Restless Womb Syndrome. He kissed me with such fervor and hunger that I thought he’d eat me alive. He did.
Another baby born for sacrifice. Screaming. Shaking. Yelling. Crying. Wailing. Babies future fodder for grottoes and guttersnipes. Prison Pipelines like those white lines going up her nose.
Running a Train. Subway Icarus suicide. Fried Flesh scent lives in my nostrils brain memory. A Train to nowhere and oblivion.
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