Thursday, January 2, 2014

Thirteen . . .

Schizotypal personality disorder by Frishec


Despair
by Stormcat

I sweat pain in my sleep.
The hate and anger builds and then at night flows from my pores.
I awaken drenched, change the linen, then return to sleep and start the whole again.
The sad part is that loves goes too.
Because love is painful!
I never love anyone in my dreams anymore.
The vagina becomes an isolated cave.
No body, no breasts, no loving arms, no tender lips, no urgent tongue, no hope for the future.
Then everything disappears and there is no finish, only pain pouring from my body and tears from my soul.



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