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Holes of my belt (english version)

Sixth hole.

Belt from the children's section,

Black leather, sixth hole.

 

Pizza.

Cardboard box, family sized, swallowing.

Slice 1, 2, 3, 4, 5; sixth hole of my belt.

 

Tight top,

Stuck in the hole of my belt, pastel lace.

Cheese, tomato sauce and goddamn pizza in my mouth.

Sixth hole of my belt.

 

Vomit. One single thought.

Teddy bear in my arm, pizza stench.

Belt to tight, tight in the sixth hole.

 

Toilet cabin.

Teddy bear in my arm, pizza stench,

Undo belt, hand to throat

And again down the sixth hole.

 

Fat floods every corner of my belt down the sixth hole

And my top is stuck in the belt.

Maybe I'll burst.

Explode.

Cheese on the pizza, in my mouth and on my

Teddy bear.

 

I can't breath and it's not even because 

My belt is tucked down the sixth fucking hole.

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About Me

I'm a passionate hobby writer and poet, usually finding comfort in German poetry rather than English texts. However sometimes I feel obliged to express myself in English. "Puddle of Ink" was my first attempt at sharing these thoughts. Now only because I've published a book, there is no reason to let this blog die, right ? :)  Feel free to skip through it and/or contact me here.

 

mail@interiorgirl.co


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