Tin (wo)man I am a woman made of tin, the wind whistles when she blows through me. I am absence, empty, a well fitted shell. Even my laugh is programmed to be technically correct. I’m afraid of the rain, I cough rust and stale air. Put your ear to my cold steel chest and listen - my heart is a hand crafted hollow of emptiness,
إعجاب
علق
شارك
