Crime Scene Therapy

There I was, 
Horned out like a crooked starch in the dark, 
Praying my way to the middle room.
Turn left right up the back of the front stairs,
and that’s when I knew things would never be the same.
Down the hallway towards the stink.
Reality freezes...............
ZERO O'CLOCK ZERO O'CLOCK ZERO O'CLOCK
ZERO O'CLOCK ZERO O'CLOCK ZERO O'CLOCK
Copyright © | Year Posted 2026

Poem

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