Maybe I ShouldI remember what you said.Everything about wanting me dead.I do no understandHow this you can demand:Useless. Futile. Weak.Death you should seek!I remember what you said.Every mean thing floats in my head.All of that cruel jestYou were the best.Creature and demon.Filth can't be human!Me they tormentJust to vent.All I can even think to say:I never asked to be this way.Sorry.
PostpartumRock-a-bye baby, in the treetopSweetest little thing you are, my dear. A treasure for all I do see. Your cry for all to hear is an angel chorus sent down from heaven afar. You, my wee babe, are the apple of all our eyes. When the wind blows, the cradle will rockCry, cry, cry, cry. That's all I hear anymore. Day or night, night or day, just crying. "Wah, wah, wah, waaaaaaaaaah!" No peace. No silence. Nothing but that incessant wailing. The same broken part of a recording playing over and over and over and over and over and over and over. When the bough breaks, the cradle will fallStop, stop, stop, stop, STOP! Enough already! I cannot take it any more! Just shut up! Shut up will you! For once in you puny existence BE QUIET! You annoying, never-ending little puke!
DeadSmile.Huh? Why?I want you.Dun wanna ta now.But why on earth not?Cuz I just dun wanna.Come on! You just need to smile!Why should I? Becuz You wan me?Yeah! It will be wonderful!Dun ya see me dead eyes?Ummmm. . .yeah, but so what?Kin'ly Fuck offNope! Never!Just leave!Smile.
SuicideJack and JillFriends for life. That she had been promised. Together forever. Two halves to the same whole. He always said that. He called her his one and only, his life blood. Went up the hillThey would do everything together. Every last adventure, every last expedition, every last hardship, they would do together. To fetch a pail of water,He started pulling away, leaving her to do things alone. She didn't know why. If she was honest with herself? It hurt. It hurt a whole hell of a lot. She would never show it though. Not to anyone. Jack fell downGone. Just like that. One day there. The next - gone. . . The ultimate disappearing act. The crimson liquid had painted the wall, quite poorly too. It splattered and laid uneven upon the old covering. She had gone over and started to even the blood with her hands in a daze. That's how they found her. Painting the wall with his blood. Him on the ground