gothic horror
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Did you keep it in a jar
Locked up tight and cold?
I have an aching fear,
Intuition has foretold.
Pity,
I bet you fed it water at night
In ounces more than one,
My dear Aunt Grace,
She cries in pain all alone,
no one knows what she goes through each day.
She wakes to screams,
her own you see.
The haunting memories of his hands against her skin;
Please fill my lungs up with sealing wax
Archaic artifice is familiar; let this be how I die
I could not live with myself
In these twisted refractions
I could not go on
