Sign In
Sign-Up
Welcome!
Close
Would you like to make this site your homepage? It's fast and easy...
Yes, Please make this my home page!
No Thanks
Don't show this to me again.
Close
THE FRIEND
We sat across the table.
He said, cut off your hands.
They are always poking at things.
They might touch me.
I said yes.
Food grew cold on the table.
He said, burn your body.
It is not clean and smells like sex.
It rubs my mind sore.
I said yes.
I love you, I said.
That's very nice, he said,
I like to be loved,
that makes me happy.
Have you cut off your hands yet?