WARNING

WARNING. Enter this sight at your own risk. Ugliness exists. You may not like what you see. It may sting you like a bumble bee. It may trigger a memory, sending you to the crematory. P.S. No porn just topic and lanuage could possibly offend. But I have to be real, I cannot pretend. This blog is for me, not you. So, if you do not like, then shoo.































Wednesday, April 20, 2011

MY MIND SPEAKS



@Laritha Lee Art on Face Book



MY MIND SPEAKS

Hello.  It's me, your mind.
I am here for you to talk to.
I am here to talk to you.
Breathe.  The air is cool and clean.
You can no longer feel.
This is not real.
I said Breathe.

Fuck you.  I can't talk to you.
I don't want to breathe.
I can't breathe.  There is no air.
Have you forgotten all I know?
You reap what you sow.
Prickly thorns puncturing my brain.
Fuck you.  I am going under again.

Hello.  It's me, your mind.
Purple syrup flowing from the spotted fawn,
filling a pool for you to play in.
It's a sweet smell that fills the air.
It's a perfect night for purple hair.

Fuck you.  Crimson Red flowing down.
Little Sweetie, rub a dub dubs
with three men in a tub.
The smell of their shit is what fills the air.
Crimson Red is the color of her hair.
Have you forgotten all I know?
You reap what you sow.
Prickly thorns puncturing my brain.
Fuck you.  I'm going under again.

Hello.  It's me, your mind.
You are laying in a sunlit field of lovely flowers.
A beautiful place to watch the clouds float by.
You are wearing a purple flowing gown,
Surrounded by soft, pure, white, fluffy down.

Fuck you.  Hard, cold table underneath me.
Darkness surrounds, I can hardly see.
Crimson Red is covering my skin.
And this is when hell begins with Rin Tin Tin.
Have you forgotten all that I know?
You reap what you sow.
Prickly thorns puncturing my brain.
Fuck you.  I am going under again.
Under again.

And you'll ask me where I've been,
And I'll have to tell you over and over again.
I've been to hell and back.
I've been hung from the rack.
I've been contained in a sack.
I've been covered and smothered,
And over me they have hovered.
I have not forgotten.
And I feel fucking rotten.
Blood flows from the prickly thorns in my brain,
Flooding my life with Crimson Rain.
Fuck you.  I am going under again.
Under again, under again.
My eyes are pouring Crimson Red.
And now I lay down my head.
Dead.
Dead.
Dead.

8/24/2004
DEV




RIN TIN TIN

No comments:

Post a Comment

COMMENT AT YOUR OWN RISK.