"A young girl who swore that people were spying on her from all of the lighting fixtures."

And they're, all around me
in a white tuxedo under the Mante ceiling.
They'll hear me when i stab my doll till
it says it loves me; like a mother would teach her
Daughter that she ought to hate the perfect stranger.
The ones that know that the next morning i'll convulse
on the floor.

Turn off the light, i kind of like it
they can't hear me anymore nor
can they torment my soul.
I'll undress into my gown and a slipper on the able foot;

till God plays the final que.
Last edited by Bleed Away at Feb 15, 2008,
Sucks that I have to close this because you were probably the next person I was going to give a critique too.

Seriously, you know the drill. Look, my piece is on page 3 or 4 now. All I can do is come out and crit more stuff, leave links, etc. You'll have to do the same.