chingxho
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- Joined
- Aug 29, 2006
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Dying to see my bones.
I lie with my only friends.
I call them index & middle.
They handle me with care.
Their skeletal texture has never felt so loving.
Longing for the feeling of my espohagus over silk.
In my twisted world - what goes down must come up.
by. Chloe J. Kacember.
My girlfriend wrote this poem over a year ago, & about 3 months ago I found this her closet. I wish I could find some more of her work, but she destroyed it all (except the poem, she must've forgotten about it). She had a lot of talent, she was wonderful at drawing & painting.
I lie with my only friends.
I call them index & middle.
They handle me with care.
Their skeletal texture has never felt so loving.
Longing for the feeling of my espohagus over silk.
In my twisted world - what goes down must come up.
by. Chloe J. Kacember.
My girlfriend wrote this poem over a year ago, & about 3 months ago I found this her closet. I wish I could find some more of her work, but she destroyed it all (except the poem, she must've forgotten about it). She had a lot of talent, she was wonderful at drawing & painting.