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Writer's picturecarmillavoiez

Cuts You Up



I have a recurring dream. I’m strapped to a conveyor belt and hundreds of blades slice down through my body and cut me into tiny pieces. I am still alive. I can feel every agonising moment. As the tiny pieces fall off the end of the conveyor belt and into a bucket below with a wet sounding thud, I feel more free than I have ever felt. The tiny pieces become fireflies and soar upwards out of the bucket until the air is full of light and colour.

Then, for some reason I don’t understand, something or someone moulds me back together again and I walk away from the machine weeping, mourning to be free again.

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