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Sep 2014
The words were carved,
Into her dead back,
The blood so bright,
It could be seen from afar. 

Eyes wide open,
Red streaming down her face,
As if she were crying,
What was in left in her veins.

Another death threat,
Were staring at us in the face.
There was more to come,
Even after this gruesome tragic.

Her hands tied behind her back,
Body bare,
Ripped clothes strewn across the grass,
And a knife shone.

Contrast from silver to blood,
Her DNA splattered across the whole ground.

The darkness of the night,
Couldn't hide,
The ****** red body,
Freshly dead.

Scent of abuse
And a hint of scars,
She left the world in pain,
We could feel her spirit haunting the air.

Forced were the wounds,
On her back shaped like words,
"Until the blood has been bled,
I will be back, for the rest of my revenge"
Trying to scare myself.

Not. Working.
Bipolar Hypocrite
Written by
Bipolar Hypocrite  In Crazy.
(In Crazy.)   
425
     Santiago, ---, ryn and ---
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