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Aug 2013
Do you see me, little child,
hiding underneath your bed?
My skin decaying, pulsing green,
my eyes scraped out, my lips bright red.

The light will not push me away,
as you dream of horror.
The blood and intestines of my prey,
mix in with other gore.

Rest your head on your soft white pillow,
now dripping red with death.
Your legs falling down from your bed
are warm with my hot breath.

Mommy comes in late at night,
for she had heard you cry.
But did she know, little one,
that she was the next to die?

Your bed is my holding place,
full of guts and bones.
The sound that lures to your sleep,
is my victims' screams and moans.

My hands have turned to bony claws
that run down your innocent face.
I will make your ****** sweet,
and I will not leave a trace.

I'll chain you up, and lock you up
in a cage just for you,
as you sleep and dream of me,
and the horrible things I'll do.

So go to sleep, my little child,
and of pleasant things you'll dream,
for that's the last thing you will do,
before you give your final scream.
Christina Rose
Written by
Christina Rose
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