1 Work in Grace Marks/Jamie Walsh
You were as eager to hear about my sufferings in life. Your cheeks would flush.
And if you had ears like a dog they would have been pricked forward, with your eyes shining and your tongue hanging out. As if you'd found a grouse in the bush.
Or was it my bush that you wanted your tongue on? Is that what it was about Sir?
Did my torment make you crave me? Did you want to hear how I was made to feel so small? So worthless in this unjust world?
Is that what you wanted to hear Doctor?
The terror I felt in the lunatic asylum?