AN ODE TO DOREEN
Hello my names Doreen
Doreen the physiotherapist
I thought I'd like her
She smiled stating that
Together we'd get this finger straight
Our eyes locked in and we searched deep,
She into the soul of my endurance
And me into her world of ,sadistic pleasure.
You see, I knew,
Overheard didn't I,
As I sat in the waiting room,
A middle aged man rushed out
In tears, distraught panic striken
Scarlet blood seeping through his bandage
Clutching his hand ...terrified
It's torture, pure evil!H
He told his wife
Next ! I turned, me?
So here I am, alone, scared and insecure,
Pictures, posters adorn the walls,
Hands clutching hands.
Painted hands with indian ink,
Hands reaching out, hands making fists
Tatooed hands...LOVE ...HATE
Foreign hands, fat hands, spindly hands,
Arthritic hands,withered hands.
Your'e all tense, She smiled as she
Loosened me fingers and pressed
And pressed and pulled
Pushed and picked
My little finger till it went purple
Pain throbbed to my wrist
As I fell to the floor
Pick her up!
Sit her on the chair !
Relax , your all tense,
Release that ball of anxiety
There! She said, it's all nice and floppy!
Then she pressed and pressed,
Pushed and picked
She slapped me face
Give her some water !
Doreen the physiotherapist smirked
A twisted warped grin!
A superior kind of a smile !
As I sipped my glass of water,
Shaking like an Autumn leaf
Do not resist me ! She raged ,as she
Sprized and sprized and
Forced open my clenched fist ,
Inspected the palm of my hand.
The scar tissue is looking good!
Just give you a massage with ...Emery paper!!
Let's get rid of this dead skin!
There it's nearly all gone.
She took the stanley knife from her pocket,
Dug it in ...'till... my skin left the bone!
There that'll do nicely,
See ,there's nothing to fear ,
it's all in your head see you next week!
Unable to speak ,I left,
Traumatised, shaking, stumbling, weeping.
And my little finger, my little finger,
Looked at me, the f****** little purple bent bastard
Looked at me and laughed!!!