Carrie, how does your garden grow?
Are the souls of your enemies
Buried beneath your personal cemetery?
The victims on their knees
Begging, beseeching, pleading
Praying to you and the same God for
Things to be as they were before
With silver bells, Carrie?
Are your nails sharpened to a point,
Itching to break bones at the joint?
To snap my wrists and tie
Them up - your peace of mind
Tortment me, ****** Carrie
Smirk and laugh before you bury
And cockle shells, Carrie?
Are you seen as a pleasurable fantasy?
A mask of terrible daydreams?
Your body caresses the loaded gun
He swears that pain is one with love
You are an instrument of pure torture
Who is viewed as a delicate sculpture
Are your pretty maids in a row?
Are we in a straight line
Waiting to be punished for our crime?
Your foolish prey meet the guillotine
One swift motion - sliced clean
Hail Carrie, the ****** empress,
Queen of deciet, and ***** mistress
Sep 16, 2015
Sep 16, 2015 at 12:53 PM UTC
Carrie, how does your garden grow?
Are the souls of your enemies
Buried beneath your personal cemetery?
The victims on their knees
Begging, beseeching, pleading
Praying to you and the same God for
Things to be as they were before
With silver bells, Carrie?
Are your nails sharpened to a point,
Itching to break bones at the joint?
To snap my wrists and tie
Them up - your peace of mind
Tortment me, ****** Carrie
Smirk and laugh before you bury
And cockle shells, Carrie?
Are you seen as a pleasurable fantasy?
A mask of terrible daydreams?
Your body caresses the loaded gun
He swears that pain is one with love
You are an instrument of pure torture
Who is viewed as a delicate sculpture
Are your pretty maids in a row?
Are we in a straight line
Waiting to be punished for our crime?
Your foolish prey meet the guillotine
One swift motion - sliced clean
Hail Carrie, the ****** empress,
Queen of deciet, and ***** mistress
For Carrie (obviously).
My words are my weapon. Here's to hoping they cut you like a knife.
(Just as his did to me).
