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