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S / Spiked Crib / Smiling Suicide


The breeze stops, like a jest it mocks her.

In silent tears she carved parallel death lines that soaked in the grief,
Blood replaces tears and swallows the anxiety of mortal belief,
With a clenched fist to make it swift she cherished the last of her times,
Awaiting a morbid holiday to eternity that would reflect her crimes.

Turning toward the open window she sees the dusk get darker and deep,
Under this sky she strayed along, in search of one, forever to keep.

An unclaimed offspring she was born in the fire of destinys kitchen,
Raised like a wild lily she kept the sad tales swallowed within,
The hand that picked her knew nothing in return,
She pledged the foster-mother whore, she'd forever help her burn.

A dark, bottomless pit greeted her fall,
A butchered baby in her womb resounded its call.
The cuts seem deep enough to let go of breath,
She lies down in agony but there's no sign of death.
He asks for more pain to announce his arrival,
Blood makes the carpet red and stretches unasked survival.

The moist paper lies beside her crumpled being and gloats,

Goodbye kind hands that fed a dried, parched throat,
In shimmers of heavenly gold I will plead for your reward,
The rest of your days will be bliss if there's a God.
Don't seek me among the dead for ill fly away to never ending skies.

Deep in my six feet dwelling I cannot hear your cries.
Bless those who tormented my starving flesh and put me to use,
I'll pray for their slow, peaceful death,
That will be my heavenly muse.

Another glimpse from yesterday sends shivers down her stiff spine,
Twitching with the venom of the past invoking shallow whines.
As equals she counted the masculine charms that assured asylum.
And took pride as they ground her in a sweet, sexual delirium.

The days led a ring slide up her finger on the altar of God,
When destiny played a last hoax with an assuring nod.
She's left naked, undressed by selfish minds, loosing garments of hope.
She moves the blade of redemption swiftly, to be stripped no more.

The breeze stops, like a jest it mocks her.
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