18 Miles to Niceville

December 11, 2007
We'll stab you.
We'll tear off your flesh and roast it with spices.
Your bones become the tables and chairs
in the diner that we sit at to plot.
We'll get you.
You'll never make it out.
Anything will be used to season your melting flesh-
journals and photos
and if there are none...
We'll season you with our own remedies.

Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback