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My Mistake

My Mistake
By MochaBabey on 02/11/2009
Viewed: 509
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A twisting
A slow tortuous
A squealing frightened scream
bellowing from the fang-toothed mouth
of a killer.
Making prey of a predator
& finding a new thriller.
This heinous act of violence
against me
is not what I asked for.

I pled for the pain.
The self mutilation
in favor of sensory stimulation.
I asked for blood
not a massacre.

They have brought me


but ironic glutton.
Their work
carved into the flesh
like a branded farm bitch.
The wounds always refresh

like new.

They resurrect from the dry dunes
of neglect
and erect
a whole new war.
They resurrect from the
-what I thought was- dead.


I was mistaken.

© By MochaBabey On 2/11/2009 1:16:29 AM
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