This So Called Wrong

by Scunty

Posted to Utterances on 2003-09-23 06:21:00

No 9

So last night, sorry yesternight. I doused myself in petrol, sorry antisceptic. Stung like a swarm of bees in my eye sockets. Slowly i resurface but i’m still sore.

I want to tell her that it was an accident but she worries so i have to tell her it’s all cool, like coca-cola or some such…

Instead i delve into the truth of my life, realise that i can only ever be me, not that i didn’t know that all along hence the anti-sceptic.

Sometimes i think about literature and the words. Sometimes i don’t i just am. Not really saying alot but hey, why should i? It’s none of your business. Unless you want to make something of it?

There is no audience, just the narrative, sorry the Author.