SKELETONS IN THE CLOSET

I’m bored,
Locked in the house
Peek a boo
I see you
Red stained walls, he is trying to resist
I hit his…
Shhh! Clean it up, mommy is back

Such innocent faces
Such an innocent charade
Peek a boo
I see you
The kisses, the touches,
The….
Shhh, I will tell you tomorrow, the husband is listening.

I tried to bury them 6 feet under
But a skeleton tries to grasp
A grey satin gown, a subtle shade of grey I see
The colour of infidelity
Hidden in the shadows are ghosts of the present
They follow me with every dimming of the light
They follow me even when I am with him

I tried to burn them to ashes
But like a phoenix they rise
A black box, a deathly black I see
The colour of murder
His screams of fear, the fears of man
They ring in my ears constantly
I see them every time I light a match

I tried to colour the rose black
But the thorns kept on pricking
A purple colour, blood of purple colour I see
The colour of betrayal
She cried, I heard her cries and chose to pretend
Her sorrow I chose to ignore
But I see bloody knife on her lifeless body

 
I don’t know how much influence
I’ll have in this world
I’m not even sure how much influence
My soul has to my heart
And my heart to my mind
And my mind to my lines
They all seem so
D i s c o n n e c t e d  
At times
And if I was being honest
I would have to admit
I have a bit of a compulsive habit
To be less than truthful  

Mostly to myself
Surrounding my psyche
With delusions so I’ll never
Have to deal with what’s
Actually rotting within me
I guess now I’ve come to a point
Where must choose in between
Progression and confession
Forfeiting inauthenticity
Because what will my influence matter
If it really isn’t me

Children and pets wiggle impaled on wooden poles
Dead grown victims have fucked out assholes
While the wicked wind blows devilish cold
And my black van is parked on the side of the road

Sitting on a dead body as I use her cell phone
Convincing her daughter her mama want me to bring her home
She says she’s at school and I’ll be waiting
I jump in my black van without hesitation,

How long this been going on-days, months, years
And with this happy hobby ending is my only fear
But as long as there is life there is continued dark hope
Because torture, rape and killing to me is better than dope

It started when I was the age of ten
By killing my sister; the courts deemed it an accident in the end
Then next came my older cousin
I can still hear the bees in his throat still buzzin

Then a year later eliminating my grandmother
Injecting her with ammonia as I fingered her pussy under the cover
And my first girlfriend at a slumber party
Till this day they’re still finding one inch pieces of her body

My black van rolls up, I call –here she come
A few more steps and her limited life is done
Before getting in she ask can her friend get a ride
A two for one sale brings a tear to my eye

They have a hard time opening my van door
I get out to help, but from the early killings I’m still sore
Assisting one in-deciding who will be the first slut
Then helping the other with a firm grip on her butt

Suddenly I’m stunned as I’m knocked off my feet
And when the shock wears off I’m looking at the police
Head on the concrete as my face is embedded in the ground
Because like my rape victims they have me pinned down

I listen to their conversation as they laugh and talk loud
While I look at my lost prey staring at me from the crowd
A smile crosses my lips while my eyes illuminate a soft glow
As another black van roll past them real slow