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Literature
Skeletons
I blindfolded them,
stuffed cotton into their eardrums,
gagged them with foul-flavored cloth,
wrapped twine round their wrists,
but still they called to me.
I drew x's on their eyes,
disconnected their ear ossicles,
cut out their tongues,
handcuffed their wrists and ankles,
but still they called to me.
I stitched their eyelids closed,
smashed their hammers/anvils/stirrups,
forced opium-laced handkerchiefs between their jaws,
wrapped cords around their throats,
and still they called to me.
Secrets
they aren't silent.
There
is no quiet, no peace,
are
too many unsaid words.
No
more is the closet door shut,
monsters
Literature
Recipe for Bad Poetry
How to Write Bad Poetry:
Start with: SCISSORS
Scissors are very good cutting your prose
into pieces (as well as fending off mobs of real poets).
It works better if you start with
Literature
Murder
Commit perfect murder. Forget hiding corpses.
Suggested Collections
Featured in Groups
Let the prof. do the creepy staring! -----> [link]
Or him:
Maybe him:
Or if you want to be entertained:
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So, this is a Six Words Story again.
I think it's clear what happened here. If not, look at the category this is submitted in. I like this piece, I think it's revealing somewhat.
It's even true! (The cold water thing) I read it somewhere in a magazine
Leave a comment/fave if you like it please.
Thanks for reading! Much love!
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