The “disassociate”
part
Click!
Same Gun,
same bullet, my oracle decrees...
Suffering.
Remembering my sin
I need oblivion.
The lack of
money makes things… interesting. I won’t steal, yet I had to do something, or
I’m forced to remember. I had to find work of some sort, so I use a mask. Not a
real one, an emotional one.
I avoid human contact, I don’t
deserve it or want it. My mask helps me not be me. This other version will do
what I will not.
With the
last of my money my mask bought some nicer cloths. He needed to go back to my
apartment, the one I’m never at, and cleaned up.
“Hank” my
mask “is an energetic young man who enjoys helping at the local Deli, and
hiking”
I hate Hank.
He makes me sick.
I cut the inside of my thigh to
punish my self for being “Hank”.
Hanks first paycheck is coming in a
week. Until then…
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