Baby brown booth,
you staring, then shouts
tell me you
hate me; my
mother hates me, shows me I’m
shit living badly.
.
Baby brown booth,
you staring, then shouts
tell me you
hate me; my
mother hates me, shows me I’m
shit living badly.
.
Depression, Failure, Fear, Memory, Mother, Poems, Poetry, Shadorma, Take Me To The Hospital
This entry was posted on March 19, 2017, 4:12 am and is filed under Poems. You can follow any responses to this entry through RSS 2.0. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.
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Stillfugue |
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#1 by Carl D'Agostino on March 24, 2017 - 11:18 am
Don’t take it personally. Coulda been something in the coffee.
#2 by Carl on March 25, 2017 - 8:40 am
Or the brownies…