Wake

Human Target Practice

Prologue...

foreplay (is not my forté)

sober exit(s)

clean.

Everthing to redefine

Fingerprints,
On a grainy, old photo.
Painterly,
Gingerly,
Hands it across.

To the silent aged spirit,
She appears to be in it.
And she smiles and blinks,
And she looks at him,
Winks.

A moment.
Just a moment.
What's she thinking?

Then...

Aaaaahhhhhhhhh....

Her eyes brighten red!
Bulging out of her head!
She's out of control!
Claws out!
Knocks him out!
Then drags him screaming,
To the steaming,
Bowels of hell.

Please do tell....

Just a shell.

To hide the monster within.

Ahhhhhhh.....

Watch out!

She's about!

Her eyes brighten red!
Bulging out of her head!
She's out of control!
Claws out!
Knocks him out!
Then drags him screaming,
To the steaming,
Bowels of hell.

Please do tell....
Just a shell.
Who the hell,
Is the monster within.

FINGERPRINTS ODE TO THE ANGRY

A cathartic acceptance of everything that’s broken. If the love can’t be saved, they choose to face the truth honestly, even if it hurts to burn the past.

foreplay (is not my forté)

Static Dress

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