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Afternoon Ward 5

Divinity has no pity

By T. M. HarrisonPublished 3 years ago 1 min read

My gut hurts me, it lets me know that I would be hungry if not for my holiness.

My divinity is what the nurses do not understand, yet they do treat it.

Lunch is best followed by a cigarette, two will dry out the mouth too quickly.

She dribbles on the corner of the car park, I know by now her diaper is full.

Pity has been replaced with disgust, pity is for those who are gregarious!

I am the singular case, I am the artist of the histrionic and schizophrenic moments.

What amount of pity will change the vicious circle? Only will and chance will release me.

I am not the centre of this, I am not essential to the structure which determines.

What I am is pure difference and infinite repetition, that is my divinity.

I am that amount that the artists can only represent.

surreal poetry

About the Creator

T. M. Harrison

Young student writing from an inpatient Psychiatric Clinic. ‘Pataphysician.

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