Joyce
Through a moron's dark light
I hear the muffled how of yesterday
black bars to every sin
No one knows I killed the inner wicked flipping the Bic close to the courted fuse
Jailer spit in my disgust every time where he had written my shape as water that drips from the stone and iron windows
they could not see her nature with his hidden tail from his back
her dolls blank eyes and hidden claws
until red eyes flash at me in violence creatures drawn from my way in
not lust of killing but killing to stop suffering from hell's own generals
need love for that unblaming sleep
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