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 Jun 2016 Elizabeth P
NiTSUDD
****** violent dreams.
Victim's lovely screams.
Ah Ah.
Crimson flowing streams.
****** violent dreams.
Oh Oh.
The mad man wakes up sweaty he is here again, here again.
It looks as though his sick addictions dear again, dear again.
Half asleep he walks down to his basement, basement.
Grabs his tools to work on a new patient, patient.
Storms into the city too excited, excited.
Somehow the evil in him's reignited, ignited.
****** violent dreams.
Ha Ha.
 May 2016 Elizabeth P
katie
I wish my
lips could
be sewn
shut with
a blood red
needle &
thread,
a visible
display
of how I
feel on my
worst of days
when I
want to
lock myself
away,
when words
are strangers
exchanging
kisses across
lips & hearts
are graveyards
burying
broken
promises.

— The End —