29 september 2012
Tachyonic Antitelephone
Fuck! Her choices establish tragedies
The key that fosters felicity long since marred
But now she’s found the freedom she so passionately sought
It was gifted to her as a straight jacket
In the colour of her choice
Every evening she sleeps within such paraphernalia
As the solace pacifies her in classic tones
With the cushioning characterized as a mirror
Emulating the shape she has so flawlessly taken
Two years in the knapsack
And to your very eye I am the poster child
For used condoms and tampons
Am I not worth more than fish?