*Stop it.
Stop it, you're hurting me.*
pain seeps through my pours
blood stains the newly-bought carpet
*No!
Your mother loved that carpet*
I beg
for her to stop;
leave me alone.
I don't like this game anymore
. . .
but my own shaken hand
refuses to set down
the weapon
Dec 30, 2015
Dec 30, 2015 at 1:42 PM UTC
