Keeping track of people.
Writing down my thoughts.
Practicing within a white steeple.
As I put on the mask made from the face of a fox.
Then crushing a beetle
The silly green stuff gushes out.
Mmmm.
Time to go scout!
Timothy looks rather vulnerable.
My sanity is irrecoverable.
I'm satisfied to see people like Timothy in pain.
I cannot contain it.
I cannot contain my need to see blood.
Oh boy, and when I do, it has to be a flood.
Nobody will find Timothy or anybody else I've killed.
You see, I am quite skilled.
I cut and sew those who need it.
I like to replace people's arms with other beings' arms.
And yes, I do cause harm.
I have quite the demeanor!
Oh, I've collected many femurs.
Varieties of bones.
Stuffing guts with stones!
It pleases me.
I guarantee they'll be happy about my next project...
I just pray they think I am adept.
It pleases me.
Those who don't feel pleased, are blind.
They don't see,
That death is 100% guaranteed.
Note: Rip Timmy.
YOU ARE READING
Maeve's Poetry
PoesieThis is a bundle of my poems. Yes, those I write too. Feedback is always allowed! These poems may not be pretty, and some may be. These poems are the plump heart to darkness and light. Red, and grim, but still beating, and now in your hand, I give y...
