Blood and gore

Red blood red

was her favorite color

scream scared scream

was her favorite sound

she’d start at the

big toe’s nail,

pull it out with a plier

wait for it to feel the pain

and scream itself hoarse

then move to the other

all the while

the blood flowed

all those brittle bones

small ones in those

bleeding toes

big ones all over the body

206 of’em waiting

just for her to

smash’em to pulp

and this was just the beginning

the soul wished he’d

never been born

she opened him up

as if he was a bean bag

with a zipper

lots of zipper’s

from wrists to shoulders

from ankle to hips

the flesh parted

above the rib cage

just like the curtains

on a stage show

for her

the iron and salt

smell of blood drifted

up from the floor

making her dizzy

the sight of blood

a heady intoxication

the world spinning

as she looked into

the souls eyes

and plunged the knife

in his still beating heart

while I stood there waiting,

watching and wishing

I was her.