Chills and darkness

I put on my Sunday best
Wait by the door have my bible rest at my side
With my skinned up knees and little party dress
Today is my birthday I feel extra nice
My mother polished my shoes and bought me fancy ruffled socks
I await with anticipation to head to my church
A place to feel protected this I’m sure
It is such a warm day I feel the sun kiss my youthful skin
Can’t believe I’m twelve today
Thoughts race through my head
I wonder if they will remember and do something special?
Will I get a new bible for mine is tattered and the cover is torn
I wonder? It does serve the purpose so maybe not
I watch the cars go on by  one by one
Feeling a bit antsy maybe they forgot to get me today
But within a few minutes I’m on my way
With a happy birthday from some fellow church members
I feel so proud twelve years old time flies by  
We head into the house of God
I could hear the bell charming oh so loud
My favorite sound on Sunday morning
My stomach starts to growl it distracts me
Punch and cookies await for me
Church hymns begin to waken my ears
I fiddle with the lace  on my new pretty dress
Clicking my heals and accidentally hit the wooden bench
I’m in the house of god
Mommy always taught me to not entertain myself with other thoughts
So I focus on that white and black collar
He is so large standing like a king
One bead at a time let my fingers dance across
I think of sunflowers and rainbow colors
We stand up and sit down and repeat this again
Its time for fellowship to begin
I need to get myself a drink its stifling hot in here  
I tell the family that brought me here that I would be back in a bit
I skip to get a drink that water is so cold
Why do I like drinking out of a fountain? Is it  because it tickles my nose?
After cookies and punch I’m told I have an extra surprise
For today I can get a ride home
I see the black and white collar its looks so scratchy
But this is Gods house and he does what’s best
As  people say goodbyes and I sit and wait for my surprise
Maybe because momma can’t afford much I will get something nice
Its peaceful as the church hymns are gone

I have never been in here when it is silent
He tells me to sit down and gives me a drink
It taste familiar maybe that wine that only those who had communion can taste
I drink it down so fast it makes me a little dizzy
Perhaps it’s the heat in this building
The fans seemed to be broken on the hottest of Southern days
Father tells me my dress is pretty
I smile politely waiting for a surprise
He ask if my socks are new and I reply with a very loud excited “Yes “
What have I done to get the attention like this?
My best friend had a birthday two Sundays ago
What did she get?
I hear mommas voice run in my head don’t entertain yourself in the house of the Lord
So I close my eyes for a moment or two
So I hear today is your birthday , that makes you a special girl
I nod my head still feeling a little loopy
May I take your picture for the church paper?
You look so pretty but first take your hair down
I release my braids one at a time
My hair is wavy and long and so baby fine
I show off my socks so proud of them
He smiles at me with his  bright smile
Can I see you twirl around in your Sunday best ?
I giggle and spin in a circle or two
Smile he tells me so I do
Come sit here I sit upon a desk
I must be special to be up here
Father asks to see what’s under my dress
I ask why but know father knows best
For a quick moment I lift my dress
Feeling my face become flushed
Its alright you’re the birthday girl
I ask if I get a bible he says after were done with pictures and such
I sit quietly listening to his voice its deep but soothing
My feet don’t want to hold still
I try and be polite and use my manners just like momma likes
He has his fingers stroke my face they are soft but large and feel nice
May I give you a birthday kiss? I have seen my elders  kissing and practiced on my doll
This wont be wrong we are where god lives
His lips graze mine slowly at first
Then it becomes harder and he is full of thirst
These hot Southern days
His face feels like sand paper like grandpa has to make his Christmas gifts
It warms me suddenly then cools me down
I feel a burning between my legs it aches
He reaches for me my wavy hair resting in his hands
I feel so special but keep wondering what my gift will be
He gives me another drink of that pretty red stuff
Giving me sips slowly as he grips the cup
It spills down my lips a little at a time
But we don’t waste any he drinks it from my chin
I feel as though I suddenly forgot how to breathe
There is something under my slip of my dress
It makes me at ease
At night when I go to sleep and put my head on the pillow
I feel that kind of rest
There is an sensation in my chest
He reaches up and pinches these small pink eraser like dots
A noise is able to escape it’s a noise I have heard before
Through closed doors but never from me
He takes off my dress slowly and meticulously
I don’t want to rip my new dress or the slip that grandma made
His mouth finds my little mounds of pink and nibbles away
He makes no sound I finally breathe
As colors start to run down his neck and onto the once white crisp shirt
He removes it . I want to touch it feel it around my neck
Its just paper with cloth but he allows me this
So I stand with my erect  pink erasers and this collar
I wonder am I a man of God now?
He asks if I would like to see why he is a man
I apply yes use my manners so nice
He takes my hand and puts it on a warm hard lump that is escaping his pants
I’m not scared I feel safe
He takes out the thing that makes him a man and he wants it against my face
My birthday present at last
Father is careful placing it  on my lips
So I try and kiss it like its one of my dolls
I feel kind of silly so I ask him how
Like a ice-cream take your time
Go in circles over this spot
So I do and it grows I try and put it in my mouth
My lips are sore and I need a drink
He laughs at me and gives me more red drink
I want you to lay down he says to me
So I do and feel like I have been on a merry go around
He removes my flowered printed panties
My stomach starts to feel woozy  
But I still feel good
I’m twelve today he is so impressed
I lay down with butterflies in my chest
At first it hurt his finger exploring me
But then it was like a warm day and a cool breeze washed over me
It kind of tickled when he put his tongue there
I giggled and moved my hips
But something happened that felt like my favorite candy
My body wouldn’t quit moving beneath his face
I shivered and wondered am I getting sick
Then just like that it was over
He flipped me around and put his fingers in another place
I was kind of worried that I done something wrong
He reassured me that I was doing fine
Something felt warm on my behind
He told me its going to hurt but it will be alright
I felt a pain that heard a sound  
His rough deep voice maybe this is where he belongs
For a moment I didn’t breathe
I held back the tears because I’m twelve a big girl
He turns me over once again takes my tears and put them in his mouth
He was looking for salvation he drank every last one
So as I lay thinking of rainbows and the evening sky
He has some fluid that I drink like the wine
It tasted like nothing but was thick and made me feel shy
But as we finish he hands me a new bible I tear a page and wipe myself dry

http://fc07.deviantart.net/fs71/i/2012/288/d/8/lucifer_by_darrrko-d5huz1y.jpg


          The Godplayer

He went out of his house
In the darkness of the night,
With a rod in his hand;
He is not telling anyone the reason
But I know he is out to kill....

A poor homeless kid, with timid eyes
Was shivering on the streets alone,
When he saw a man in black coat
Approaching towards him slow.
He didnt know, he is coming to set him free,
And before he could raise his voice,
His eyes and nose went red because
a poker had struck his face.

And the man started sprinting towards the
end of the road,
When he was caught by cops on his trail
And he was knocked senseless.
His eyes opened in front of the jury
Who were sitting with a stern face,
And explained to him the extent
to which his crime was grave.

He heartily laughed out,
Saying he didnt do anything vile,
All he did was that he freed the child.
He said, "Life was disgusting for that
poverty stricken kid, who is so thin,
I couldn't have played better, but to free him.
My name is Lucifer and you cant make me stay,
For God has chosen me, and I have a game to play."

he forces the blade through his skin
forceing it deeper  than ever before
with the devil watching and smileing
hes end slowly begins
the deeper he goes the more it shows
the farther he cutts the more he feels
hes covered in blood and then the devil pats him on the back
"good job my son"

On a Perfect Day

I'd like to find myself in the woods
way out there in the deep
where no-one would hear

his screaming
as I feed him to the wolves
slowly...
apologizing for his foul taste

on a Sunny day
bright so his blood could sparkle
round the whiskers of the rodents
feeding on his carrion

I'd have my shotgun
and turn it on myself
cock that thing and smile

knowing I'd had a worthy life

removing this filth
A hero, I'd die

------------------------------------------------------------------I'd like him Pureed

Who he was made me question nature
such a mutation of gross perversion
was surely missed by natural selection

His mere breath added evil pollution
to the universe, every inhalation
an insult to justice and an ass fuck to fairness

I scratched frantically
trying with a desperation unknown
to most...to uncover any good
in his rotten core
and found nothing

nothing but a stinking middle, rotten
and infectious, a parasite
seeking the next unsuspecting host

to suck dry

Another lost idiot who'd play blind
and ignore his fucked persona and twisted
being..look away
as the demon cunt within rears it's head
turn away...

I could filet him without a twinge
of anything remotely human being stirred within

could drain him drop by slimey good for nothing drop
deep fry his pieces in hot oil..grinning

knowing I'd conquered evil
not in some comic book hero style
not on a world watched battlefield or
like Jesus

but I'd be taking out a fucking evil
the likes of which would make you want to hide

yet the creepy dickhead lives
lives on....but his days are numbered
and dependent on my shaky stability
and I'm feeling less balanced by the day

dreaming of candy floss, ice cream cones
and his blood covered corpse
face down in his own shit

because I've been in it..face first
wading through the sewer of filth that is him




Written by mikimoondancer  
 

   

The Forgotten Tale

The search kept on for a missing baby,
Muffled tears fall down from a depressed mother,
She believes maybe if maybe,
If I had not left my baby with that caring lady,
That one of whom I trusted with my dear child,
The search begins right that night in the wild,
The forest so large,
And the group so small,
Consisting of a handful of men and the mother,
They walk ever onward,
In hopes to find this lost child,
Alas a sound was heard,
A cry,
A thud,
A grinding noise,
The tearing of flesh,
The search party races to the noise,
But it is so dark,
So very very dark,
A cool breeze sets in,
The moon is full,
You cannot see further than your own face,
Yet you,
A loving mother,
Race towards the sound of your once crying baby,
Oh how the chills run up your spine,
It is so cold you can see your breath in the moonlight,
You look left,
Right,
You hear voices of the night,
Who is there,
Silence,
The search party scream,
Soft silent gurgling noises are all you can hear,
Whispers all around you,
You are trapped,
In a

The Forgotten Tale

The search kept on for a missing baby,
Muffled tears fall down from a depressed mother,
She believes maybe if maybe,
If I had not left my baby with that caring lady,
That one of whom I trusted with my dear child,
The search begins right that night in the wild,
The forest so large,
And the group so small,
Consisting of a handful of men and the mother,
They walk ever onward,
In hopes to find this lost child,
Alas a sound was heard,
A cry,
A thud,
A grinding noise,
The tearing of flesh,
The search party races to the noise,
But it is so dark,
So very very dark,
A cool breeze sets in,
The moon is full,
You cannot see further than your own face,
Yet you,
A loving mother,
Race towards the sound of your once crying baby,
Oh how the chills run up your spine,
It is so cold you can see your breath in the moonlight,
You look left,
Right,
You hear voices of the night,
Who is there,
Silence,
The search party scream,
Soft silent gurgling noises are all you can hear,
Whispers all around you,
You are trapped,
In a clearing by the trees,
The moonlight so cold,
All around you,
Giant beasts,
On all fours,
They surround you,
Howling at the moon,
Sharp teeth,
Drooling as they laugh,
About eight of them,
One has a baby in it's mouth,
My baby! My baby! You scream,
They laugh out loud,
They bite your throat,
Darkness surrounds you,
Your body turns cold,
Under the moonlight you rest,

We are Lycans, We are real.

Fallen Angel 2

Trapped somewhere
Between heaven and hell
Fallen angel
No one wants to know well

Not really human
But can’t really die
Lost in mortality
But doesn’t know why

I don’t belong here
She says time and time again
No one will listen
She wants her new life to begin

Dying will free her
She knows in her heart
She wants to release herself
So her freedom can start

She hears as it calls to her
Screaming out her name
Leave your hell now
Quit playing this game

Grab your blade
Take away your pain
No one will blame you
They know you are insane

Watch as the blood drains
From your slit open wrists
No need to worry
You will never be missed

No turning back
It is your time to die
Freedom is in sight
You will once again fly

Tool

That old Barlow
jack knife my drunk
of an old man used
to gut bass caught
in Never Look Back
Lake sure comes handy.

I inherited it
after he drowned
in his fishing hole
with a belly full
of Wild Turkey
and slit wrists,
the capsized
rowboat a swell
makeshift coffin.

That same knife
I used to gouge
eternal valentines
and our initials
in the back
booth at Duff’s,
the mahogany
table scarred
by generations
of wild eyed lovers
and their fucked
up dreams.

It was at Duff’s
When you said
Mack looked cute
With his new haircut
and shave. A shame
you won’t see
his hair grow out
as I tether your
beautiful blue eye
ball to a vein and a bone
making a sweet paddle
ball game for that kid
who I know now ain’t mine.
At least that little bastard
won’t get the Barlow
when I’m dead and gone.

Thank you.