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Rated: 18+ · Poetry · Death · #1567637
A sickening poem. I write and this filth comes out to greet me.
This Constant Scream


Your Screams do not arouse me.
In fact I can hardly hear them...
Its cold here

Indifference is pleasant and warm.
it smells of your blood
on these satin sheets
I wonder what the weather will be like tomorrow?

This room is a bit cramped,
it could use a cleaning.
What did you say?
no matter.

Your excessive screaming,
It will not save you.
These walls are thick.
Its not like you are the first.

*sigh* no matter

I have an idea!
While you gurgle on your blood and bile
I'm going to sing a song
My voice will make this more pleasant
I swear.

Be quiet now
When this is over
you will be in a better place
naked, stiff and voiceless

Oh, sweetheart.
Go ahead and scream a bit more
I have changed my mind,
but make it count
it will be your last.

This silence,
strange,
I can still hear you.

I will keep you with me always
in that special place
locked in the matter of gray.
© Copyright 2009 Defleshed (cmgavin at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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