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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 02-June 12:49:38 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 121850
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Stiches
[time] => 2006-06-16 01:20:29
[hometext] => hope this isn't too corny
[bodytext] => The scalpel is dull. It can't cut anymore. So the stiches stay in place, firmly against my crimson lips. The operation was long ago, but the healing isn't done. The wire stays put... for now. Soon the doctor will call, and say: 'It's ok now. Come in and we'll get it out.' I've tried it on my own. (The pain is unbearable.) But my tools are lacking. I have to wait... It's only been months, but it seems an eternity. The anticipation... The waiting... What an awful test this is. No man should be subject to this pain, this confinement. No man should be tortured so. I try to speak, but the wire holds me back. All that comes out is horrible, painful moans. I want to scream. It doesn't work. I can't even let out my frustration, or vent my anger. D*** that man, who so cruely tied my lips together with his disgusting metal wires. D*** that man, he hasn't called yet. I've been by the phone for days. It still sits silent. No More! I need a scalpel or a shotgun. I need to speak, or I need to die. [comments] => 3 [counter] => 202 [topic] => 75 [informant] => a7x36 [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 4 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => anguished )
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