Metamorphosis of a Young Flower
Suicide came upon me Sucking at me Like a newborn babe to a mother's breast (or do they have machines for that now?) And it made me pick up the pieces Of the Christ I had shattered. Maybe I was never perfect at all. Maybe my tears were in vain The whole time And the bathroom And the hatred And the blade And the frustration And the night Never happened at all. I have always been this normal (or do they have machines for that now?) Written October 11th, 2001 © on Oct 11 2001 09:56 AM PST, Katrina Armour 0 • 18
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"Suicide came upon me..."