Monday, November 16, 2009

the cookiemonster .

The lead pulsates red.

It has hands burned from masturbation,

Inflicting unknown justification.

-

It devours your flab, your skin.

Your dangling double chin.

Its sneering hearing

Refuses normal bearing.

-

It likes the nod of odd,

It enjoys to taste the waste,

Of the rapist's haste.

A thick crust, the cum's paste.

-

Damned goods, crush boned woods.

A hole dug too deep, breathing cheap.

It burns red, it gapes hollow;

The sunken eyes devoid.

Carved out by perversion's never ending void.

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