Horror

Why do I get so itchy when I’m kind?

Something crawls into my mind.

Dreams that I never talk about,

Where the old hags get very loud.

Tremors drag my body to horror,

My mouth feels full of woodborer.

Kill them before they kill you, just do.

My fears never highlight in crazy hues.

For people’s sake, I became a princess.

Royal psychopaths aren’t a game to guess.

It’s a wild ride destined to go nowhere,

Often, I enjoy looking at that empty chair.

Resting alone in the room that’s locked.

Loneliness frowns me while I talk.

It’s been 365 days of my insomnia

Celebrating my terminal dementia.

They kept me on pills of serotonin

to treat the death of my feelings.

Will they ever know how I feel?

My monsters don’t let me heal.

My childhood still stays in my tanned skin,

she liked the murders with fancy hairpins.

Tormented by the horrors of reality and illusion.

This psycho princess dreamed to die in seclusion.

She wants to bury her pins beneath that red oak tree.

Before setting her vicious trapped mind free. Free!