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Jack L Martin Sep 2018
Hanging on the wall, next to my bed post,
A friend of the forest looks surprised, most.
Oh dear, she did not hear the gunshot near,
Nor tree nor hill nor her fawn shed a tear.

Over there, the finest hair of the hare,
Cute and fluffy hopping into my stew.
It's seat is sweet and hard to beat I swear,
Though his hide is gamey and tough to chew.

A sow, a cow is how I eat for now,
I feast on the beasts with the finest meats.
Fresh flesh on my breath, fresh blood on my brow,
Slaughtered, like their daughters; fair market treats.

I feel nothing for these creatures I hunt.
Would you rather feast on the yeast they shunt?
Kevin Castro Apr 2018
He reached into the paper bag his friend handed over and pulled out a small picture frame.

“Do you want it?” his friend asked.

He turned it over carefully to see what was in the frame. Through the glass, he saw a beetle mounted in cotton, displayed along with a strip of paper that held its name. It looked like something good to have hanging in his room.

“Yeah, but why?” No one just gives away nice things. At least no one gives stuff away without a reason.
“Why, what?”
“Why are you just giving stuff away?”
“Oh,” silence, “I just don’t need it.”

It was a non-answer, a truism, something people say just to get people to asking questions without lying. That’s not enough, he thought. If there was anything he knew about his friend, it was that he liked to talk.

“Wait, so why don’t you need it?”
“Just take the whole bag. Maybe just give back the 3DS games”

He turned the frame around. There was a mark in the back, like someone tried to open it up with ballpoint pen that ran out of ink. Whoever made it gave up after one try but still managed to leave pinholes in the cardboard.

“Are you sure?”
“I think you’re asking too many questions for free stuff, guy”

He looked through his friend’s bag, wondering what else was inside. It was clothes, mostly, and ruffling through it wafted up a scent. The smell and the fabric, it was decidedly feminine to him. He had more questions, more thoughts to investigate.

A car, pulled over next to them. “My ride’s here,” his friend said.

He looked at the beetle. Its wing casings were a sickly yellow. He saw a few writhing brown dots come from under it. He felt sick. Maggots, he thought.

“Carlos,” he called out, handing back the bag, “I’ll keep the beetle”

His friend turned back, took the bag and left.
Kevin Castro Apr 2018
rested, sealed in a cloud.
through the panes of my reflection,
she lay still. preserved,
at a point in time.

carefully, it was made
a heaven for her,
black, against the snow,
a delicate frame.

freedom, hers was sought
in a vain attempt,
too easily, given up,
it left a desperate mark.

made to cut her loose

unnoticed, beneath her.
her eyes looked forward,
unrelenting, yet absent.
my gift remains pristine.

faded, her elytra
are pale and sickening.
yellowed, they conceal
many writhing guests.

unmoving, she remains,
but a stranger to life.
a gift, she is,
rotting from the inside.
here, i'm trying to project an effect or emotion through the use of imagery. if it's too hard to get what the thing im describing is, i'm not sure who's at fault .

bump pls critque me. also!! a hundred virtual (worthless) points to whoever can guess the exact thing im describing
Skylar Michael Mar 2018
I'm just a taxidermy with a soul
but I've seen foxes on display that look better than me.
Panda Jan 2017
Oh the fun we will have
Now that you're lying here
Paralyzed by my tea 
You have nothing to fear.
Please, give me your wrist.
Now thats a good boy,
I'll tie you up nice and tight
So that you I'll enjoy.
Don't cry tears my dear
I promise you I won't leave,
Just need to get the duct tape
I don't want to hear you scream.
Oh dear this simply won't do
I need to take off your clothes
Now don't you squiggle too much
Or I might just bite off your nose
My darling you needn't be shy!
Your body's a beautiful thing,
I promise my hand will be kind to you
Since you were so kind to me.
Darling your pose is perfect!
Now is most definitely the time.
For what you most likely wonder,
*To stuff you and make you mine.
read the landlady to understand
Pauline Morris Mar 2016
Everyone has their daily struggles
But with depression it's more than doubled
I rise each day to face the sun
But a part of me just wants to run
To hide away and lock the door
Or **** someone and settle the score

The wounds inflected on me I can not hide
You can see them all plainly on every side
They are apart of me, inside and out
I've been prey to many, and my trophy head they mount
In their memory of victims, I'm another count

They did it slow, they took their time, in no hurry
Then sent me off to the f**king taxidermy

They cleaned me up and stuff in the saw dust
But all you see standing before you, is just my crust.
Pauline Morris Feb 2016
Everyone has there daily struggles
But with depression it's more than doubled
I rise each day to face the sun
But a part of me just wants to run
To hide away and lock the door
Or **** someone and settle the score

The wounds inflected on me I can not hide
You can see them all plainly on every side
They are apart of me, inside and out
I've been prey to many, and my trophy head they mount
In their memory of victims, I'm another count

They did it slow, they took their time, in no hurry
Then sent me off to the ******* taxidermy

They cleaned me up and stuff in the saw dust
But all you see standing before you, is just my crust.

— The End —