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Ancient mouth

Full of bleach

Measured meat

Fell from teeth

Crepuscular words

Putrid ooze

Squamous skin

Wasted wombs

She controls

She controls

As old ones order

She installs

The marry ghosts

Of Eugenicville

The Hart inhales

Her dank breath everyday

Can't erase

Her stench bleeds every cell

Bloody handed poets of heaven whisper miasmal lullabies and

Feeding from the tree of cancer babies that she seeded in a wildwood of nameless wounds

Faceless

Worthless

Sinless sacrificials

Blissfully

Dance in the

Holy flesh grinder

(Talking giblet pulps)

"What would others"

(Thinking offals)

"Think about us?"

(Talking giblet pulps)

"What would others"

(Thinking offals)

"Talk about us?"

She has Boogeymans for naughty girls

She has big guns for lovely boys

She has white lilies and tiaras

She has big plans for all of us

She's collecting virgin wombs and sharping nippers' teeth for hunting

Feeding from the tree of cancer babies that she seeded in a wildwood of nameless wounds

Faceless

Worthless

Sinless sacrificials

Blissfully

Dance in the

Holy flesh grinder

(Talking giblet pulps)

"What would others"

(Thinking offals)

"Think about us?"

(Talking giblet pulps)

"What would others"

(Thinking offals)

"Talk about us?"

These eyes are not mine

Eye stitcher sits around the river

With a childish joy she shivers

While she fondels her collection of cadavers

Wrinkled black leathery fingers

And grotesque nails marrily lingers

On cold, wet, pale, gray bodies among her crypt flowers

Loathsome creature grabs one

Gouge its eyes and sing a song

I forebode my perilous times has come

Tormenting screams rise

Wicked thumbs push my eyes

Squishing sound echoes like a keen pain bites my mind

Sewing dead one's eyebalss

On to my dark holes

So I could only see what she wants me to be

These eyes are not mine