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Kevorkian Logic · 02-11-2007, 11:54 AM

I’m trapped in this cage

God dangles the key,

Like the sick bastard he is,

Like the sadistic little child he is.

My mind struggles to escape

Escape this hell.

Eventually I stop caring

What’s the point?

A few people stop to stare,

Point politely at the lost child

Lost in a cage,

Lost in memories,

Lost in thoughts.

Orwell whispers in her ear

“2+2=5”

She believes him.

Gein whispers in her ear

“Mammary vest”

She laughs in delight.

A necklace of lips

Lampshades of skin

A whole human suit

What could be better?

Than killing the ignorance

That plagues her world?

She goes to bed blissfully

Toying with these thoughts.

I arise with the sun,

Roll out of bed and look.

Everything is hazy still,

Even last night is hazy

I remember feeling trapped

Another forgotten night

Another red ‘?’

Written in fat, red sharpie

On the red spotted calendar

Tacked on the white wall.

I look at the orange bottle

Cap screwed on tight,

Proud it kept last nights dosage

Safe in its cold plastic arms.

I know it's choppy sounding and short lines, it fits the song it goes with.

Look up Gein if you don't know who he is. His crimes were quite interesting to say the least.

02-11-2007, 11:54 AM	#1 (permalink)
Kevorkian Logic Imperfectly Perfect Join Date: Jan 2007 Location: North Carolina Posts: 1,290	Forgotten Whisphers I’m trapped in this cage God dangles the key, Like the sick bastard he is, Like the sadistic little child he is. My mind struggles to escape Escape this hell. Eventually I stop caring What’s the point? A few people stop to stare, Point politely at the lost child Lost in a cage, Lost in memories, Lost in thoughts. Orwell whispers in her ear “2+2=5” She believes him. Gein whispers in her ear “Mammary vest” She laughs in delight. A necklace of lips Lampshades of skin A whole human suit What could be better? Than killing the ignorance That plagues her world? She goes to bed blissfully Toying with these thoughts. I arise with the sun, Roll out of bed and look. Everything is hazy still, Even last night is hazy I remember feeling trapped Another forgotten night Another red ‘?’ Written in fat, red sharpie On the red spotted calendar Tacked on the white wall. I look at the orange bottle Cap screwed on tight, Proud it kept last nights dosage Safe in its cold plastic arms. I know it's choppy sounding and short lines, it fits the song it goes with. Look up Gein if you don't know who he is. His crimes were quite interesting to say the least. __________________ "it is only through a limitless accumulation of the imperfect that a certain type of perfection can be attained" Last edited by Kevorkian Logic; 02-11-2007 at 02:53 PM.