Saturday, October 15, 2011

Little Miss Whalley

Through skin and scabs, 


In hopes of finding a vein; 


Beneath the bathroom’s light, 


Maybe this hit might, 


Kill off all her pain. 


The blood looks black,


But she pours it back, 


Through a hole between her toes; 


She rolls her eyes, 


With a pleasured sigh, 


Forgetting everything she knows. 


She awakes,


To hunger pains,

But not ones for a meal; 


So she walks the streets,


A piece of meat, 


What she'll do just not to feel.

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