can’t think where to post- so putting it here, move it if it needs to be.

sick. Feel sick. raw, fear.

images- hes after me, looking for me. hunting me.
I’m the food, he’s the prey. The lesser, the submissive.

I’m the object of his hunt, his lust, his need.

I hide- try to not breath
to not make a sound
to dissappear into the wood

I know i can’t out run him
can’t escape
can’t prevent it

so i hide and bide my time
wait for him to find me

he says it angers him to look for me, he sings nursery rhymes i can hear him. tat cup da gwen cup wif te in it he got it an he lukin an singin
an singin

an i hiyd
an i as god tayk me
sab me
hep me

an mi tume sik
an im sik
an firste
an gotsa pote
an stil i don mub


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s