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Blackraven2
2016/06/28
(Tue)
21:04:31
No.
5870
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He punched my face and broke my bones,
then cut my tendons, ripped my toes.
Why ain't I dead?
He fucked me, raped me, hereabout,
then cut my throat and bled me out.
Why ain't I dead?
He cut me up and plucked my guts,
then threw away them gory lots.
Why ain't I dead?
He started taking for his meal,
If I could have, I would have squealed.
He cut and roasted, minced and ate
and then he had my bones defiled.
Why ain't I dead?
They threw away what they could see,
how's somehow something left of me?
Post number
No.
5870
Board
Literature
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