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ruth-forbergPoems
feasting is beastly devouring the measly souls of the weaklings how mild and meekly cowering, quivering stock-still, but shivering delivering evil at doorsteps grabbing the forceps take a few more steps I'll cut you and your kids and your wife with her fits are you aware of the pits of despair? **** now you're scared **** all your cares 'cause you're going nowhere except back to that place drool drips down your face crusty blood-caked lips you faked your trips seen what I've seen? please, your nightmare's my dream nothing as it seems sewn up the seams blown up the reams of **** that you wrote and with a knife at my throat I'll dare you one dare just one sit there and stare
0
Oct 19, 2011
Oct 19, 2011 at 3:11 PM UTC
If, Ands, but not Buts
feasting is beastly devouring the measly souls of the weaklings how mild and meekly cowering, quivering stock-still, but shivering delivering evil at doorsteps grabbing the forceps take a few more steps I'll cut you and your kids and your wife with her fits are you aware of the pits of despair? **** now you're scared **** all your cares 'cause you're going nowhere except back to that place drool drips down your face crusty blood-caked lips you faked your trips seen what I've seen? please, your nightmare's my dream nothing as it seems sewn up the seams blown up the reams of **** that you wrote and with a knife at my throat I'll dare you one dare just one sit there and stare
ruth-forberg
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ruth-forberg
Oct 19, 2011
Oct 19, 2011 at 3:11 PM UTC
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