The razor blade digs into my side A contraption meant for something else Reusing useless item to make a point
The absence of your insignificance
Spitting the venom foaming at the mouth I loved you so much that I wish I was dead Standing at the crossroads of crucifixion A place that meant so much before Words carry no weight Cliched, depraved edition of everything said Spinning in circles looking for something that isn’t there A long ass sentence with no point Left alone so long ago Abandoned to the point no one knows Lost in time and space All the ideas we decided to create
Selfishness and everything I strive to be
Hung over, fractured skull Left regretting mistakes Still processing all the shame Brain on fire and only one to blame Stand still, watching the world spin Slowly becoming, sober
Flesh from the bone… heart torn from the soul…
The flames of despair are flaring up again Taking away any confidence I may have had Searching the world for my ego Stealing from all those around me Demented dimensions of disproportionate thoughts Shattered shadow slowly dying in the dark Lost everything when I lost you Took away anything I thought I had A talent for noticing how fucked up I am My will sways in the wind Broken branches littering the ground Up routed and so far from where I began Where do I go Standing before a fork in a destroyed road No path free from your corruption No path that hasn’t already been worn down Sell my soul for a little peace A thoughtless thought that haunts me
Burning through my notes at an unusual pace… honestly trying to clear most of this mess off my desk… move on to something new… I’d love to start working on my novel… well I have but I have been at an impasse… Been too lazy… collecting excuses… collecting pages of distractions… Been so long I’m starting to forget what it was even about… not a good sign… figure it all out in time… everything in time I suppose…
You keep coming at me Sticking your face where it doesn’t belong Maybe it is your ideology that puts you in your place Maybe it is all the things that you couldn’t say Beat you down to make it go away A constant fight with too much at stake Killing the reasons that drive me insane Choking all these feelings, put them in their place Maybe it is all the things I have to take Maybe it is all the times I have felt raped The words sink in and I don’t know what to say Too many days feeling this way
I don’t play God I just Sheppard in his beliefs
Your little tragedies are building up A cut here, a scar there The blood rebuilds but never heals A truth we don’t want to believe Invincible in the sense that we are not Riding this thoughtless thought out
Taking each moment in
Falling victim to the flames Standing up to the walls of Christ Stuck somewhere in between A theory, a thought on it all Trying harder to not try at all Trapped in a wake I can not escape God had a plan she just forgot to tell me Rising above the tide, a glimpse, a vision Comes to mind but why should it ever Make any sense Intention are never the same as actions Reading minds never got me anywhere
The voices take me under
The darkness hides a secret A truth we could never take The nightmare of it all Inflicted with so many issues Praying is one way to bring in the demons Drinking has always been An escape I could never afford Breaking down all the reasons You are still in my mind Miss the days it was only You and I My regrets aren’t the ones hidden on the surface Resting in the shadows Sleeping on the cold floor of my heart Miss everything I could never have Choices made Decisions out of my control Spreading messages I don’t even understand Saying shit I don’t know how to say Broken, I wish they’d just go away
Chipping away at all these notes… feels good to get some of this off my mind… my heart… my soul… if words were an avalanche of shit… I’m buried under them… haha… could you imagine?… may have thrown up in my mouth a little bit… if you have ever changed a diaper… the smell alone… shiver… haha…
There is no good transition from that last paragraph… though technically is it a paragraph if all the sentences are broken up?… never covered that one in school… odd they never covered any of my style in school… well that’s not fair… they probably did… but more in the what not to do… so you know I wasn’t listening… obviously… : )
In a good mood today… feeling life… writing all this depressing shit was a drag… kind of felt like who is this asshole?… then I remembered it was me… still in a good mood… good moods are bad for me… I’m not feeling this at all… this is very much gun to my head writing… but you deserve more… and I want to give it to you… maybe you don’t feel that way… maybe you think I am crazy… hey no one reading this really knows… listening to Where Is My Mind by The Pixies… (Not even going to link that… because you should know that song…) Getting lost in that under water sound…
“Hello Liam,” I say as I enter the room. “Doctor,” he smiles
in his own sinister way. “How’s everything today?” I ask him. “Oh you know can’t
really complain. Got to sleep in late, watched as the birds played in the trees
while I enjoyed my very nutritious breakfast, and afterword I went for a nice
walk around town,” he deadpans. “Cute, I’m sure it is easy to get around town
in that straight jacket,” I say to him. “It is a tad bit constraining, but you
know the ladies love a man who knows how to dress for the occasion,” he laughs.
“And I’m sure the ladies love you. It is only too bad that you are a danger to
yourself and everyone else,” I say as I open the file in front of me. “A danger
to myself?” he gasps. “Tell me is that your medical opinion or your personal
opinion? Because I will have you know that there isn’t one person out there who
would back up your claim,” he shifts in his chair. “That’s because beside me
there is no one left who really knows you Liam. You made sure of that didn’t
you?” I ask. He tries to lean his chair back but it is bolted to the floor. “There’s
no use scratching at the scars of the past now is there Doctor?”
“Unfortunately that’s all you have any more. Tell me do you
ever stop to think that may be the reason you are in here instead of out there?”
I ask him. “Are you really asking me if I have time to think right now? Or are
you simply trying to get through your checklist of nonsensical questions?
Because I’m having a hard time telling the difference,” he fires back. I’m
losing him. The nice guy, everything is a joke personality is starting to fade.
I can see it in his eyes. The dark hollow orbs staring back at me. I write down
my observation on the paper in front of me. “See something you like? Find
something new? Care to discuss what new profound idea popped into your head?” I
ignore his questions. Bait to fall into a trap. Liam likes words. Uses them to
distract you, confuse you into doing exactly what he wants. A trait he must
have possessed his whole life. “Stop looking at me like some sort of side show
freak,” he growls. “Are you angry Liam?” I finally ask him. He tries to fake a
smile but the real Liam has taken over, “No of course not.” His eyes never
blink. Only if you are looking for it do you even notice that the skin around
his eyes begin to tighten with every passing moment. No one the wiser would
think he looks calm, cool, and collected, but I can see through his mask. He has
the look of a mostly forgotten memory. “God, there is just so much of him left
inside of you,” I say. The lines of his face form a most sinister smirk, “Do
you mean our father?”
“Are you sure that I didn’t burn most of him out? Medically
speaking.” Liam turns his head to show off his scars and what’s left of his
left ear. “I’m very certain that no matter how much you hurt yourself you will
always be like him,” I tell him. “Why don’t you take this straight jacket off
and we can test that theory Doctor,” he says. His voice calm and his eyes like
fire. “I’d prefer we didn’t. Medically speaking of course,” I smile. “I’m sure
you do. Remember how you used to hide behind the living room curtains whenever
he would come home? You were weak then and you are just as weak now. I never
feared our father. Even as a child I could see what he was. Maybe I didn’t
understand it completely but I knew what I wanted to be,” he muses. “Are you admitting
that you were fully aware of your crimes?” I ask with my pen in my hand. He
ignores my question. “You probably get off on the idea that your little brother
is some kind of monster? But here is the thing brother. You can hide behind
your little curtain. You can roam these halls pretending you are some educated
healer, but we both know. I know that you aren’t. No, hidden away somewhere in
that thick skull of yours he hides. It hides. You think you are better than me,
but you are nothing more than the same,” he rants.
“I think that is enough for today,” I say uncomfortably. “Of course you do. You have no back bone. Never have. You can’t accept who you really are. What we are,” he taunts. Do not give in I think to myself. Don’t listen to his false words. “I can stand up for myself just fine. I know who I am and what I am,” I tell him. “Yeah and what is that Brother?” he asks me. “Sane, normal, a free man in this world. A man not strapped down by chains for sins committed.” I enlighten. He looks almost bored from my words. “I pity you brother I really do. You can hide behind your curtain, your title. The idea that you are sane. Free from the evils of this family, but in reality it is you that is in chains not me,” he taunts. “You can taunt me all you want Liam, but I am the one in control,” I say firmly. His eyes look as though they might jump from his skull, “You will never know the true meaning of control. You will never feel its true power for as long as you hide behind the curtain. Those victims as you call them were nothing more than stepping stones, martyrs to show me a better life. They showed me the truth of this world. Beyond our father. Beyond reason. So you can judge me all you want from behind your curtain or you can join me on the other side of it.” I signal for the orderlies to come in and take him away, “This meeting has been insightful as always. Can’t wait to see you in a few weeks to do it all over again Liam.” The orderlies place his muzzle around his face and left him up from the chair. “It is only a matter of time Brother. I can see it in your eyes,” he shouts as he exits the room. “Only a matter of time.”
They say I’m depressed Enlightened by the idea They even know me The loneliness creeps up Digs deep inside Have always felt I have been Left to die A child’s thought buried inside How long am I willing to ride this out?
Torn Between… Everything is fine…
My head is finally empty A feeling I’ve been searching for Though I don’t understand Everything seems pointless Repeated over and over again Suicide doesn’t seem painless But really only the next step
A sober thought lost in my mind…
The spiders shall crawl across your skin From the darkness of you heart Spinning webs in the empty space Fading from the structure started Disappearing in the disappointment Of a lost idea in my head Taking a long time to talk this out So unsure what to say Too many things killing me Ignoring everything Hard to breathe Too many things getting in the way Hard to tell What the hell I’m even saying
Too depressed even for me… Walking it off…
“It has been awhile since we have seen each other. It has been a time since I have been like this. I have to say that I missed this. Missed us in a way that makes no sense.” I bash my head into the bathroom mirror. The image in front of me shatters. Lines of blood across my face and I stare into my cold dead eyes. “You’ve always been so beautiful. The things you do to me. The way you make me feel is unmistakable. You are me and I have always been you. That’s the smile I have missed.” The blood drips from my face, from my teeth, onto the sink, and staring. “They said we shouldn’t be together. I’ll admit I agreed for a time but now that we are back together? As I look into your eyes? Fuck them for ever tearing us apart. Who the fuck are they to decide what we mean to each other? They don’t know what it takes for us to walk this Earth.” I smash my head against the mirror once again. Tiny shards sticking out of my face. “Now let’s go show them what it is you really mean to me.”
That last one was fun… been sitting on that one for a while… no idea where it came from… I was planning for it to be this whole story… but fuck it… new ideas will come… very crazy mix of thoughts in this one… I know I throw words like suicide and death around… like they ain’t shit… need to stress that these are Broken Thoughts… moments that pass… some of them repeat in my head… so I can see why my friends and family worry…
I appreciate it… always have… I don’t use those words for attention… I take them very seriously… they are also only thoughts… feel guilty when I make others worry… because there is nothing to worry about… writing has always been a way for me to get this shit out of me… because that’s how I really feel… suicide and death is shit… there are plenty of things to live for… what else is there really to do?…
Death will come whether we want it to or not… the price we pay for life… so there is no reason to speed it up… there is always a way out… a lesson to be learned… even when you think there is no other way out… you’d be surprised that there is… I have been back against the wall… seen some shit… lived through things I’d never wish on anyone… feet still planted firmly on this earth… didn’t get through any of it alone… things always seem so much worse up close… at times we can feel so alone on this earth… trust me though you are never alone…
If I have learned anything from sharing my thoughts over the past two years… it is that we are never alone… something I think we all need to be reminded of every day… not everyone is your friend… but not everyone is a monster either… protect yourself… but don’t lock yourself away completely… things will get better… sometimes it takes time… sometimes all you have to do is ask… but things get better…
Untitled (Perspective In The Infinite…) By: Unnamed Special Guest
I choke with every breath of air It stands still and it tastes stale I cringe at all the sounds of life They shake my bones and make them frail I find it harder everyday to keep the things That make me care
I feel gravity dragging me down It’s thick and heavy and very loud
Every breath a gasp and blink a weep It feels easier to let the dark creep Into my mind and let it drain Into my veins so they seep
I feel gravity dragging me down It’s thick and heavy and very loud
I think of final vitals, it wanders through my mind It sends a lovely shiver up and into my spine These thoughts and feelings never subside I wish that I could have a hole A place to hide, my last home
I feel gravity dragging me down It’s thick and heavy and way too loud
I’ll find a way to make it end Not by conclusion, but my own hand Take the illusion, the one I had Erase it all, now its not so bad
I feel gravity dragging me down It’s thick and heavy and way too loud
I’ve been wanting to post this for awhile… the statement behind… rings very true… I didn’t write this in case you missed the by line… I did name it as it was presented to me as Untitled… I enjoy titles… Overall I enjoyed this whole poem… things that stuck out to me though… was the reference to The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath… If you have yet to read the one and only novel by Plath… I highly suggest you do… It is heart breaking and amazing… similar to how I feel about this poem…
The writer… deals with depression on a daily basis… I know a lot of us here suffer from something similar… I also know that a lot of us feel as though it is only us… it would be nice if none of us had to ever feel depression at all… but it is also nice to know we are not alone in this… That’s what I enjoyed the most about this poem… the perspective…
“Try again. Sound out the words,” his mother says holding
back her frustration. “I know it can be difficult to read, but you have to
learn.” She rubs the top of his head. The little boy looks over the page
studying the images first and then the words. “The boy ex, escaped through the
fa, fa,” he stops as a hand smacks him hard against his head. “Fire you dumb
shit. It says fire,” his father barks. “Damn it James he was only trying to
sound out the word,” his mother pleads. “Stupid doesn’t know how to read fire?”
His father asks before taking another drink. “I ain’t raising no dumb illiterate
asshole in this house. He ain’t going to add up to shit any way, but if he can’t
read? Be even more worthless than he already is. Can’t be slow, fat, and
stupid,” his father argues. “You are one to speak. You can barely,” his mother
doesn’t finish the sentence as his father raises his hand. Tears begin to form
in the boy’s eyes. “That’s right woman. Know your place,” his father says
before finishing off his drink. The boy fights the urge to cry. He knows better
than to show weakness. Fights even harder to not let his father see. “Are you
crying?” His father asks. The boy tries even harder to make the emotions stop
by looking down away from his father. His father grabs him by the back of the
neck, “Those look like tears to me. I asked you a question. Are you crying?”
Tears fall from the boy’s eyes. “No,” the boy yells. His father’s eyes light
up. The spark that he needed. “James don’t. He didn’t mean it,” his mother
pleads. “Bitch unless you want to be taught a lesson yourself I suggest you
shut the fuck up and get me another drink.” His mother walks out of the room as
the hand around his neck squeezes to the point he can barely breathe. “You don’t
talk to me like that you little shit. Even got your mother acting stupid. Must
be some kind of sickness going around here. Best to stomp this sickness right
out before it spreads any further.”
James drags his son by the neck out of the room and down the
basement stairs, “First you can’t even read. Now all of a sudden you the big
man with the balls to talk to your father like that. You want to cry like a
baby? We don’t cry in this family. You want to be a man? Act like one.” James
throws his son against the cage across from the basement stairs. The boy’s body
lands against the cage with a loud crash. Grabbing his side the boy cries
harder as he lay against the dirt floor. “Get in the cage,” his father orders.
Kicking the child in the back, “I said get in the cage. What are you deaf and
dumb now? Don’t act like you don’t know what is happening.” The boy shakes in
fear as he enters the cage. The cage door slams hard behind him as he falls to
the dirty floor of the cage. Torn up bits of clothing and old rotten food surround
him as he fights the pain in his side. Fights to breathe. Fight the urge to
scream. He can no longer take it as he hears the familiar sound of his father
picking up the old iron rod. He wails in pain and frustration as he knows what
comes next.
“Strip,” his father orders. “I don’t want to,” the boy expels in broken words and snot. “Sorry what was that?” His father mocks. Striking the side of the cage with the iron rod, “Don’t you make me ask twice? No use in fucking up your clothes over your stupidity, but don’t think I won’t.” His father walks over to the furnace and opens the door. The boy does as he was told. The fire burning inside lights up the room. His father places the end of the rod in the fire before asking, “Are you sorry?” Too afraid to move, too afraid to see the boy lays there. “Are you or are you not sorry?” His father asks. “Yes,” the boy shouts. “I want to hear you say it,” his father demands. The iron rod heats up. The boy sits up and grabbing the side of the cage, “I’m sorry father.” His father stands there with his back facing him. Doesn’t even bother to look him. Only stares at the end of the iron bar in the fire,” I don’t believe you.”
“So this pattern of abuse went on for years?” The doctor asks. The young man nods to the question. “Why not report it to anyone?” The doctor asks. “To who?” He asks right back. Writing some notes down the doctor studies the young man’s body language. “Tell me Steven did it feel good doing what you did? Getting your revenge? Was it worth it?” The Doctor asks. “No, not really. It wasn’t worth it. I didn’t enjoy it the way that he did,” Steven says. “Odd because I don’t believe you,” the doctor smiles. Steven smiles back. “It did feel good shoving that hot iron rod right up his ass. Should have heard the way he screamed. The way he cried like a little baby until his last breathe. I didn’t enjoy the beginning but the end? It was too bad that it couldn’t have happened sooner. But we all learn a lesson in the end I suppose,” Steven rubs the scars on his side over his hospital gown.
Speaker (Playing Feel Good Hit of the Summer by Queens of the Stone Age…)
My head (Wondering… “what the fuck am I even doing?”..)
Answering a text. “Odd because so are we”… Context important only to me.
Looking over the papers.“What do I even want to do?… Write a story?… Broken Thoughts?… a poem or two?… Stare at the screen some more?…Puts head back on desk.
Daughter walks in the room. Screams at me about Ads on her knock off Minecraft game… “Fix it.”Too broke to buy the real thing… she is too young to even know how to use it… or so I think… deflects with… “I’m working”… Feeling like a shitty parent… the feeling will pass…Puts head back on desk.
Picks up lighter.(Seriously don’t smoke…) Lid catches on fire. (Too much fuel in the Zippo… Might be mentally challenged… stressing might…)Closes lid on lighter. Stares at the screen.
Thoughts in my head.I know that they are there…Big ass spider crawls across my desk.(Not Face Hugger Big… but big enough to notice…) “Do I kill it or let it live?”… try to kill it… it is too fast… lost it in the papers… no idea where it went… “Great”… Puts head back on the desk.
More texts. “Did you do what I asked?” No… feel like a shitty husband… the feeling will pass… Respond back. “I’m working”…Stares at the screen.
Instructions. Insert logo image. Insert links. Think of tags. Settle for what you already know. Schedule post. Put head back on the desk and think of something to say. Make something up if you have to.
This is about sex…. had no idea… because I’m Sick… Sick… Sick… Hack up a body and I’m like okay… talk about sex… and I’m like hold the phone… haha… yeah I’m very American… it sickens me… brings a tear… because I didn’t even grow up in America… That’s how deep these cuts lie… Crazy how much culture effects you each and every day… Oh… and I love this song…
Die Antwoord…
Speaking of… Zef all god damn day… So I don’t know if you know… but all this started and ends with music… That’s all I wanted to be… that’s what I failed at… writing is cool… I love it… but I settle for it… because the truth is… I want to be the greatest drummer of all time… that’s real… Music is my life… everything else is what it is… sadly I was born without any talent… I try… I dabble… I dream… but sadly Broken Thoughts is all I be… life if you ask me… but If I was who I wanted to be?… Fuck… I’d be the Zef American filling your head with sick ass beats… point is we all fail… embrace what is left… Broken Thoughts and all..
This one… I find out who they were after I saw a Modest Mouse concert… (My favorite band…) to be honest I am not familiar with them at all… but I like this song… I saw some of the members open for Mouse…. It wasn’t bad… better than I could do… but not for me… I liked this though…
Haha… I hated this song… but… in the end I became hooked for dumb ass reasons… MGK... isn’t my kind of shit… but I shit you not… he looks like my brother in law… He is homeless but he chose that for himself… so don’t feel bad… I don’t… asshole is living better than most people… but I still had to be like is that him?… haha… because that’s the dice life would roll for him… American all day… throw up in my mouth… still doesn’t explain everything going on over here… Capitalism details so many things that I don’t understand… basically I got hooked on this song… that’s it…
Full circle… I ran out of songs… My daughter requested this song… that’s how much they have taken over my life… even my daughter knows what is up… This song is crazy… and long… My daughter is dancing to this song right now… between tapping out the beat… Life is crazy here… best line… pick one… this song has many… I may not have been the greatest drummer… but there is still hope for her… pushing music on to her… like I am to you… I am a dad after all… : )
Well… I had fun… hopefully you did too… music is life…
Broken hearted, lost in thought, a dreamer This world is not what I thought it was Seeing through the mystery Searching through the fog that surrounds me Dark cloud, casted shadow, shallow grave Three feet in and all ready to begin Working my way deeper The abyss was never staring back at me Always surrounding me The walls of my prison The home I’ve always known Where to escape when there is nowhere to go Questioning your line of questioning Scratching at the walls, tearing flesh from bone, hand of broken nails Heard it all before Stolen ideas taken as my own Programmable program, humanity spreads like a virus No longer do I want to be part of your hived mind bull shit Fitting in is nothing I ever wanted So why does it feel, feel as though I failed When we all know I have yet to begin
Pressure Rising
The images play out in my head A vision of something better This could all be So much better This could all be So much more Ignorance inherit Value stupidity Gave up so I could let you in Hate myself but I blame them This could all be So much better This could be So much more My thoughts inherit Value selfishness Allergic reaction to everything you are A nightly ritual passed down This could all be So much better This could all be So much more Harder on myself than I could ever be on you A confession of honesty I miss the days where I could say These things to your face Lonely and it’s crazy Because this could all be So much better This could always have been So much more
A return to poems… I have been saving a lot of them for submissions… hints the over abundance of Broken Thoughts… though to be fair to myself… I have a lot more Broken Thoughts… Than poems… These two were actually written last year… Last summer… Yeah I sat them for a minute… I decided to group these two together because they have an off kilter approach to the idea presented… basically they start off as one thing and end as another… pretty much where I was last year…
Were they my best ever?… probably not… at least I hope not… no matter how great something is… I want to get better… I think that is important to every day life… I accept compliments very poorly… because I want to be better… negativity hurts… feels like shit honestly… but they have always driven me to want more… hit too many times with a shovel?… maybe… or maybe it is just human nature… no one vividly remembers the time they one that award… or got that A… but you remember that time some asshole told you would be nothing… getting that F… the fear of explaining your failure to someone else…
Of course I do too… and there is only so much abuse that we can take… but if anything was “special” about me… and we are stressing special beyond its meaning here… is my ability to take all the shit thrown at me and use it to fire up my engines… yeah I’m a machine in this scenario… an old ass model… but it still works the same for the most part… haha… anyway what I mean is… people are going to give you shit… you will fail… but embrace it… fear it… but know that it is the only way to get better… don’t let it get you down… if you really want it… then it is all worth fighting for…
I noticed the way she looks at me again today. The look of a
blank stare, but it is not a blank stare. It is as if she is trying to tell me
something that words could never really say. I see it in her eyes. Those cold
green eyes. They appear almost gray as though something is hidden in them. Ten
years I have stared into these eyes. Ten years I have study this girls eyes. I
have watched as she has gone from child to woman and it is as though nothing
has ever changed. Ten years of failure. Ten years of silence. I’ve run every
test possible. Everything in the book just to hear her speak. Electroshock therapy,
two electrodes attached to her head and enough electricity to shock anyone
awake. Not a god damn peep. If it wasn’t for her pulse and her eyes I would rule
her dead. I fought tooth and nail to keep her after she turned eighteen. The
state told me she had served her time. I argued that she still needs to server
more, but like this? Was it worth it?
Her crimes though not as extensive as the others leave a lot
to the imagine nation as to why. Why a child would commit such a crime? A
silent hour every week for ten years and I am not any closer to finding out the
answer. Her eyes dance as if she is trying to tell me something. Maybe it is a neurological
condition? No, I’ve tested that and came up with nothing. She chooses not to
say anything at all. Ten years and I have never heard her voice. Witness, the
neighbors claim to have heard her scream awakening them from a dead sleep. A
scream like a siren only to stop. Replaced with silence. Imagine my jealousy to
these complete strangers. Her eyes tease me like a loaded gun. Her eyes so
innocent, so green, could they really have comprehended what she had done?
Could anyone?
Could anyone understand fully the act of killing their parents?
Witness testified that she was often beaten. Appeared to have bruises, black
eyes, cuts all over her body. Never enough to raise alarm, but enough to
noticed. The scars though faint are still there. What all her parents have done
is lost in her eyes, but what she did has been well documented. The simplest of
them all murder. The more complex. The ones I want to know, to understand? Hidden
behind those eyes. How does a child carefully remove the skin of a person? Let
alone their own parents? I know surgeons. Doctors paid to be precise every day and every
time. Even they do not understand how a child could be so methodic. A pile of
skin laid on the floor as she began the real work she had set out to do. As one
police officer stated in their report, “The organs were laid out. Laid out on
display like we had to do in basic training for our rifles. Laid there ready to
be put back in if need be.”
No, a child could not understand what they have done? Or could they? The answers sit before me waiting to be discovered. No evil in sight only a blank stare. Yet she sits before me. A child capable of tearing apart her whole family. A child who shaped the bones of her parents to that of some kind of monster. A child who took the skin of her mother from the floor and wore it like a costume until the police arrived. What kind of evil truly lives behind those green eyes?
Sorry for the late post… internet has been down… the real horror of this story if you ask me… up an running… hopefully I won’t be late on the next one…
