Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
lucy-tonicPoems
The screws are tightening round my skull In the same place where all the voices come from Though this is no accident, no health misfortune By now, yes, I’ve begged for it, begged for it to come You call yourself a killer, well then finish the job You call yourself a thrill, but the ones from me are all you’ve got This terra is not my pill, when all kind monsters are forgot As the real terror slaps on Maybelline, straps on a guitar Somewhere in Xayide’s lair lies my memories Packed like spheres of glass in a gumball machine Someday I’ll return to sepia and monochrome As another Dorothy clicks her heels… (Going anyplace but home)
0
Nov 30, 2011
Nov 30, 2011 at 9:27 PM UTC
Everything but the Kitchen Knife
The screws are tightening round my skull In the same place where all the voices come from Though this is no accident, no health misfortune By now, yes, I’ve begged for it, begged for it to come You call yourself a killer, well then finish the job You call yourself a thrill, but the ones from me are all you’ve got This terra is not my pill, when all kind monsters are forgot As the real terror slaps on Maybelline, straps on a guitar Somewhere in Xayide’s lair lies my memories Packed like spheres of glass in a gumball machine Someday I’ll return to sepia and monochrome As another Dorothy clicks her heels… (Going anyplace but home)
lucy-tonic
Written by
lucy-tonic
Nov 30, 2011
Nov 30, 2011 at 9:27 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem