I heard the voices from the statues
But mother said not to touch them unless I want
To hear them say things about last Saturday
The old men at the mall are mean
They're mean!
So I bit one's head off
That way he couldn't scream
Hot, dripping candle wax!
It's all over my bed
What was she doing when I had left?
I hope she doesn't have any demons in her head
What a dangerous little violin
The wood is cracked
Did you hear that?
I'm stuck
I'm stuck in this pit of semen
It's red and smells of foreign planets in distant solar systems
What the hell did you just say to me?
Stop talking!
Run.
YOU ARE READING
Incoherent Poetry from the Depths
Horror(The painting in the cover is by painter Nicola Samori) Do y'ever just wish to feel the chills of the ethereal down your spine? Have you wondered what life is like outside your material universe? Did you ever posit the idea, that a good bout of uns...
