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100 Words

Saturday, November 27, 2004

Pitseleh #1

“I’m so angry. I don’t know if it will pass.” Betrayed. Abandoned. Sealed with a kiss. Please don’t ever touch me again. Sticks and stones break my bones and with your words you murdered me. I don’t love you. Never have. Thus says the Lord. Not His will, it’s yours you do. Fuck, shit—harmless syllables. I don’t love you—now that’s obscene. Stamping the name of the Lord on your feelings, this is profanity. These are the most vile words spoken by human tongue. So self-assured. So detached. Cold. Composed. So devastating. Like a hydrogen bomb in Times Square.
Peter 1:48 AM

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