nostalgia
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I’m crafty with my hands.I hope you understandThat I use them to make loveTo God and not to you.I really cannot help it.I can’t just proclaim, “Welp, itIs really not what I’ve beenSent to this place to do.”
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To save for you, my lovely paying readers. Wait, you guys pay me right? Because thats the sort of relationship this is, right? I’m here for piles of cold dead cash. I’m a genius cannibal They treat me like an animal I can’t put this poem here Cuz no one will read it dear. So,…
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There’s something creeping through the town tonight A presence that is alien to me. Alive or dead, It causes such a fright. And leaves one thinking existentially. A possessive demon capturing the hearts And lungs and penetrating to the minds. A demon that seems engineered to start To maim or kill or elsehow leave you…
Musings of the Mad 