This poem just flowed.

It's difficult to explain really.


1. Bitter

I ache to rip coloured squares from a plastic breast, mutilate the neat stitches, genetics has sewn into my very being with its omnipotent needle, the veiled master of both matter and mind, Godlier perhaps, than Christianity's fleshless idol slouched upstairs. Rainbow badges, representing my emotions felt are thrown carelessly underfoot, I stamp on them impudently like a spoilt girl,  jumping up, down to earth again in my steel martens wishing for anxieties to die, I strain to hear imaginary spines snap the signal to end my madness. Acid tears seep from within  my bitter slithers of eyes, the same question beat at lids each time I allow fatigue to sweep me in its arms, 'can I not play master with my own experiences? Why must I remain enslaved to passions, emotions which I yearn to not feel.'

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