"zombaby" poems
There's a dead baby girl in my closet Should I tell her to leave? If she goes somewhere else She'll have nowhere to sleep.
Both her eyes are missing and her skin's the color green. She sings to me at night and I see her in my dreams.
Flesh rolls off her bones in decaying clumps. She has no feet so she crawls on stumps.
Aug 12, 2015
Aug 12, 2015 at 12:15 PM UTC