Woke up in the land of the dead
Trees floating over my head
I felt guilty I didn’t make my bed
And like a dog in spring I started to shed
On my armpits I am braiding my hair
And vomiting you a nice blanket
It is past your bedtime again
Let me take your human skin jacket
Blood makes such nice burgundy paint
I could draw raspberries that way
Or the tears of a saint
I regret not punching you that day
My baby doll keeps company to the demons at night
They cannot be seen by the human eye
Who is to say they aren’t mine?
They are the ones speaking for me most of the time
Frozen organs in those plastic blue eyes
The soul gathering in one part of my body
The darkness whispered to me pretty lies
”Stop shooting people in the lobby”
The nuns are crying, rushing to get inside
They got scared of the shotgun in my hand
My friend watching my brother sleep by his bedside
My face locked on his feet covered with sand
My baby doll gets on my nerves lately
I ripped her clothes and made them confetti
She was the talk with no brain kind of gal
I would know, as I opened her skull
17 March, 2023
