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Thinking about poetic horror makes me think of Pedro the Lion's Never Leave a Job Half Done.
A haiku for you, David Bazan: Blood stains on my hands Quick, drag her to the kitchen Hide the evidence. |
Happy Thanksgiving
Why does turkey make you sleep Its the Tryptophan |
haha... Nice use of Tryptophan.
Haiku for Thanksgiving... From the turkey's perspective. Gobbling in my pen. Here comes the Farmer Walace - ... ... ... ... ... |
Chrono is real bored
Resurrects her second thread PLEASE someone save me |
here's something to do
when you're really bored at home: resurrect old posts. oh, wait... nevermind. |
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While reading this thread Newb's Zombie coat and glasses Made me laugh out loud :D |
Running in the night
Knife in hand, he follows me There is no escape Ankle twists, falling down Eyes wide, tears running down my cheeks Helpless now, he's here He whispers of death Knife gleaming as it plunges Hot breath on my face Pain and he smiles Blood cascades down, so cold now Last breath leaving me (not quite the same ones I wrote in grade school :p ) |
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unhhh ughhh gahhh unhhh gohhh ughh ermmm Guhhh bahhh ughhh guhhh Brains. |
Must have been the wind
A creaking floorboard perhaps Surely nothing more |
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