'The pink rucksack' Live generated automatic writing text.

Escape take me with you interlock my fingers and pull my thumbs I don’t want to be left on my own on the 12.27 underground service to Cockfosters. I can’t cope with being left on my own with only my pink rucksack as salvation. I don’t want to traverse a world without you in it you make it make sense to where would I live on my own my skin doesn’t suit Hawaii but it’s about give and take and I can’t take Australia but maybe somewhere in Northern Europe would be ok. We can drink that was pissed on by Bulls and we will like it and piss on each other. Pierce my mouth and tie it to yours then lets see if we can make sense of a conversation. Don’t cut me cut the blue cheese lying hiding in the back of the fridge then make a sauce to pour over the dried out steak you got for twelve pence because no one else wanted it. I can never fit this ideal of the 1950’s housewife in peplum skirt and blue pinny. I can’t wear red lipstick it makes my teeth look yellow and then my teeth look like they will fall out into a small neat pile of broken shards into my fingers. Like the broken plaster casts of toes I made to make someone other than you happy. I should have never have done that. Small tiny and insignificant piles of shiny white powder, which surmount to nothing. The black dog with 2 legs runs past our window again its fetid breath filling my lungs and sending me to sleep with the fishes. Deep dark and under the sea where no one could find me except the lobster who came again with his razor sharp claws and cut off my toes again. I am bleeding but not because I want to be or because you wanted me to be but because someone else made that decision for us. Like a baby that we never had taking up all my time because everyone said it was the right thing to do. There is an umbilical chord wrapped around this slimy purple screaming infant’s neck and it is not mine but my mothers. There is no knife. I need to stop this thing from dying my teeth are the only implement. I bite through this rubbery hose and like the way the clots stick to my gums as I drink someone else’s blood down. The blood in my eyes makes my eyes not red but white and milky though it’s a milk I can’t give to this horrible baby because …