TRT | XCIV | Yellow
XCIV | Yellow ❦ I don’t rememberwho calls the police or the ambulance but they comeafter I’ve beenon my knees, hands soakedin his bloodfor a while. Sirens cry, blue and red lights,white sheets,a beeping machine,gloved hands,manicured voices. I’m led downa pastel yellow hallwaythat smells like sanitiser but no matterhow they wash, I can still tastemetallic … Read more