Tuesday, January 3, 2012


Broken dolls. And Shattered heads.
Silence crawls into our beds.
A bleeding wrist, a crooked nose.
One and two and three hard blows.
Nestled insects in our eyes.
Creaking as the bedpost sighs.
A quiet scream of agony.
Quelled by the seams of entropy.
Red green pus profusely flows.
In this graveyard's corn crop rows.
A shedding tear. A violent fear.
Doors shut closed this haunted year.
A little gasp as shears run through.
A horrid thought, this could be you.
Sew shut eyelids, now you sleep.
From the nightmares that I reap.
Draped in ravens, reds and crows.
In the end, that's how it goes.
One plus two then three to four.

Now they all don't breathe no more.