I heard a laugh.
Small, yet deep.
It shook my my heart,
It made me weep.

I heard a shriek.
Shrill and loud,
Never had I heard
Such a terrible sound.

My head it shook.
My ears did bleed.
I fell to my knees,
I started to plead.

I screamed. I trembled.
Both did no good.
For still the man came.
With his axe, with his hood.

Then all sound stopped.
And my head it came clear.
With my thick thoughts,
Went all of my fear.

My tears ceased, and with a grunt,
My death swung his blade.
Thunk. Plop.
In the basket my head laid.

eyes wide
A maniacal smile.
Covered,
As other heads piled.

Feet first into the cosmic sea
Swelling and crashing over
All our buildings and dreams
Forever is a children's fable
Sit and watch me start to fade

Green spec on the wonder bread
And totally unnoticed she'll spread
Until every slice is perfectly saturated
And eventually tossed into the trash
And eventually tossed into a landfill

Feet first into the cosmic sea
Where we do go when breathing ceases
Deceased and tossed into the trash
And eventually tossed into a landfill
With all the other promises of forever

I lost my daydreams for a while.
The bounce, the charm, the myrth, the smile.
All locked within the sleeping child
That I buried deep in the wild.

And yet, my fantasies resumed.
The undecayed body exhumed.
My girlhood rose from her repose,
The bright side of life to expose.

Don't talk to me about your love,
I've never seen a drop of it.
Don't talk to me about the climb,
I'll never reach the top of it.
Don't talk to me about the flowers
You've been prattling on for ****** hours!
Don't talk to me as if I don't know
That "rain will make the flowers grow".

Don't talk to me about your dance
I don't even have a dress.
Don't talk to me about your friends
I beg of you, give it a rest!
Don't talk to me about the sky
Mine has only ever been gray.
And if you try to talk about "healing"
I'll MAKE you go away!

This whole world that you create,
It's gorgeous, I must say it's great:
A beautiful cake on a pretty plate.
Welp, guess that means I'm second-rate!
Your poems are all meant to titillate
You titter and twitter and domesticate
These themes that even optimists could hate
I'll never be able to felicitate
You enough for the work that you narrate.
My morbid tones you must negate,
And to fix my soul: eviscerate!