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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