I thought of this through the quote
Reality is merely an illusion, albeit a very persistent one.


I'm sitting in the yard
Playing with what I call a friend
It seems my demented mind
Will never truly mend.

You see, the person's dead
Killed by my own hand
Then I preserved the body
I filled it up with sand.

Body parts are everywhere
Guts hanging in the trees
It doesn't really matter
For no one living sees.

There's a head on the T.V.
Hands nailed on the wall
An eye on the cookie jar
And a great big human doll.

Skulls line the hallway
I use the arms to paint
In fact I make Leather-face
Look just like a saint.

For I too wear the skins
Of people who passed through
They're all hanging in the closet
There's always someone new.

The priest and the sheriff
And hundreds of teens
Anyone who enters this house
Will die by any means.

You didn't get it did you?
I said ANYONE who enters
Of course that means me also
I killed myself last winter.

Poetry by Kristina
Read 580 times
Written on 2007-03-01 at 13:14

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