An End

Things— fuck—I could die
In a wondrous picture.
I should end, and the
Walls should be scrubbed
and the sheets washed
And donated to charity,
And the life forgotten,
And my soul
Laid to waste in a barren
Field so that I could
Be as pathetic as
I feel today.

10/25/95

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About ~Drew

I am a survivor of childhood torture. Each day, I put one foot in front of the other, moving forward. To do any less would spell my own destruction. My music/poetry/prose deal with the devastating effect of this kind of abuse on a human being: me. My experiences/thoughts/ideas/misconceptions are exposed here for all to see. Here. I am lain bare, naked, hidden only be the cloak of anonymity.
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