⋅ 21 June 2011

Bred for Murder

Please, blame it all on me.
Don't hit him, leave him be.
We're alone, just us three.
And you say you're sorry.
But it's up to me...what should I say?
What could I say, to make him feel unafraid.
When it's not okay. It's not okay.
Not even in the first place.
Oh if only, you could see the face,
that your flesh and blood makes,
when you're not around --
If he spoke he would confound -
He wants to put you in the ground,
so deep that you can not hear a sound,
when you're clawing up and down.

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