Incantations
Pissing blood, she smells like her bed.
She casts little spells all over her body.
Flicking the syringe, her jewel toned eyes look like a sea serpent's.
Sedated and screaming,
The chemicals in her mind form a perfect toxic cocktail.
All she does is worry,
Rocking back and forth.
Lonely.Lonely.Lonely.
"I feel it in me."
She's like a hole:
Dressed in shreds and scared to death.
Take my blood and see whats wrong.
Writer/s: RORIK ABRAM BROOKS
