sugarcodeine: filled+emptied

time to withdraw [the music pours down from the street lamps: nobody loves you, or under stands, eyes put in squinty, you need a haircut] but we will make it too easy for you. enter your number…*you can withdraw [nil] today* Nil by mouth; stick it all up your arse. And you have no new messages. How can you complain; how they envy you. You cannot be empty for we filled you with our dreams. we sold you. Nothing to see hear. Lifestyles of the rich and famous; every missed heartbeat judged so harshlike.Trapped by lies we told you: "for whiteness you can actually mesure or your money back " "comfort you feel even if you are stigmatic" "erase deep lines forever" " separates the men from the boys" "the future's bright" "what does your loo say about you?" "your home is infested by germs" "you're old and ugly" "you smell terrible" "your dog's filthy!"
you’re a bigger onion than we thought. But your dreams are silent and you only half remember anyway. forgetting more every waking moment…want to hold you, want to hold you. Can't tear ourselves away. anyway.But paranoia beats thinking nobody cares

he opens the windows before bed,
in case we're outside on the stairs,
and fills the moat nightly
with his tears and spittle,
and wraps our old cotton shirt
round a hot water bottle.