They tell me you’re a depressive,
Spend most mornings in tears,
Sending visitors away.
I sit in a darkened room and succumb
To your trilogy of torment.
You’re all about flaccid flesh,
Warped thoughts, a veritable cradle
Of despair.
A child falls from an open window,
Smacks on the ground.
To follow you is to empty my mind
On the bloody floor, and cry for a
Woman to take me away.

Words by Winifred Bowen, Art by Clare Moran

This article first appeared in print volume 88 edition 3 SOAP

By Pelican Magazine

Pelican is the second-oldest student publication in Australia and the only independent paper at UWA. If you like having opinions, writing, drawing, and/or free tickets to local events, then Pelican is the place for you! We print six themed issues a year, and run a stream of online content.

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