Early Christmas Morning...

Reads: 56  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 2

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Ahh, how I love the holidays.

Submitted: November 12, 2011

A A A | A A A

Submitted: November 12, 2011

A A A

A A A


 

The barbies,
They have no heads.
The dolls,
They have no eyes.
If they still did,
I'd love to see
The pain and the surprise.
I've mangled them all,
Made a masterpiece of my own.
Cracked and broke
Their fake, little, fragile bones.
Won't mother be proud,
Won't she be thrilled,
Of all the toys, teddy bears,
And dolls that I've killed?
I've torn them limb from limb,
Ripped them all apart with my teeth.
Broke them with my hands
And crushed them with my feet.
I imagine them living,
I imagine their screams.
Merry Christmas to them?
Merry Christmas to me.
It's so much fun,
To hurt them so.
It's such a rush,
To burry them dead, in the snow.
Where are the scissors?
Where is a knife?
Where is the thread?
I'll bring them back, to a tortured, desperate life.
Tomorrow's Christmas,
I've got no more toys.
I'll have to move on,
To living girls and boys.
Of course, I'll need bigger tools,
Stronger, more severe.
Perhaps a chainsaw,
Maybe a meat cleaver.
Won't it be beautiful
For their parents to see,
Their walls painted red
On Christmas morning?
I'll tear out their guts,
and splatter their brains.
Load up their eyes,
In their little toy trains.


© Copyright 2017 Brenna Lynn. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments:

Comments

avatar

Author
Reply

avatar

Author
Reply