I MADE MY BED.
NOW I'm gonna lie in it.
IN the sharp, shrapnel-covered, blood encrusted screaming bed
that horrible hard place filled with lies
that fucked-up place
that loveless cradle
that hole.
We none of us wanted a palace: we liked this humming little hell-hole with its atrophied rules and characters, its ogres and mascots. Alan Hollinghurst The Folding Star
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