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Dead beat dad

Dead beat dad

Enlightened
Mar 5, 2019
1,029
Destination irrelevant.
Looking out of the window;
Fields, trees, hedges, roads, 2 year old me.
I blink, I am gone.
Still fields, trees, the occasional town, industrial estates.
I am twisted.
Twisted up inside, like hair wrapped around the chuck of a drill and ripped from the scalp of an unfortunate machinist.
More fields, people stare in to phones, 2 year old me was not twisted, he has been made in to what has twisted him.
Fuck the fields, the hedges, the trees. Fuck the others on this forsaken train.
Fuck 2 year old me, I hate him, in that fucking field, unaware of what will happen to him.
I twist, like the hair around the chuck some more, tangled, resigned.
I would cut off my hair and tear the machine down in anger, but I am not man enough.
Trees, hedges, fields, sky, clouds, faces, ghosts.
I twist.

DBD
 
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