Monday, 8 November 2010

A little sort of poem/sentence thing

I want to  rid myself of this dirty, squishy sludge, rippling under my skin, I want to take chunks from myself and mould myself into something beautiful, something new, I will cleanse my brain, body and soul, leak the blood out of my skin, until one day I might reach the lemon curd fat inside and squeeze it out, until all that is left is a tight canvas of skin stretched over beautiful curving bones, only then will I be a work of art, a living, breathing sculpture for all the world to admire.

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