porcelain figurine lays on the floor
crimson cracks appear on her face
perfect, otherwise

silent screams of a broken mind
and a soul that pierces with the burning
of a thousand evils

this body cant be trusted
this body can never be trusted

as the scent of her shedding skin
merges with the wind
i lock the door

not tonight, i pray
not tonight…

as she whispers things done
and screams with the chorus of those
left undone

-this fucking buzz in my head-

not tonight, i pray

the clock speaks

three a.m.


~ by saikow on February 1, 2007.

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