I remember hair in the sky.
Near the vulgarities being spoken to walls,
Painted hissing on.
Some of them were smiling,
As if we were put there,
And had to look,
And deserved the kind of gaiety
A bare green wall could never muster.
Name That Trauma:: Alex M. on a Crying Baby and a Victorian Doll - Hi there, Terrific site. I was wondering if you could help me with a half-remembered TV-based trauma from my childhood. My brain’s telling me it was a scen...
15 hours ago