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Time Flies...

Waiting is the greatest pain,
Though most of me remains slain;
Legs propped up on iron heaters,
In my mouth spins an egg beater-

Roughly, duct tape holds it there,
Wrapped around my crimson hair-
Holding in the spinning end,
Tearing so no one could mend.

Will my torturer return?
I cry to think of all I've learned.
Even through the scars he burns,
He says there's more for me to earn.

Waiting, gurgling, and praying,
Burning, yearning, burnt legs splaying,
I can't conceive what could come after,
I resort to insane laughter.

Though I choke on blood and teeth,
Through the smell of my burnt meat,
I laugh harder, my mind flees
Closer toward insanity.

The deadbolt slides, I hear the door:
Creaking, scratching on the floor,
He walks through, I smell him now,
Expensive cologne flows down.

He leans in, I feel his breath,
Then his hands upon my chest,
He whispers one last sick goodbye,
"You won't be the last to die."
Written by MrBuchanan
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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