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Patriotic Poetic Prisoner
Join Date: Dec 1999
Location: U district
Posts: 1,285
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Love is Lonely
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[After a lonely day of house chores, Jane decides to go visit her husband at the funeral home/crematorium where he's been working long hours. She walks in to see him cutting up something on one of the tables…knowing what it is, she furiously approaches him…..]
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I’m Sick of you sniffing coke, Nick, I mean it, god dam you!
You’ve Spent all our money on the Shit…. get OFF me!,
Stop!, I can’t stand you!!!
I tried to control her anger; she fought with her arms,
They pried my hold, and made-her stop, before there were scars.
Still had the raze-blade in hand… ashamed, turned my head
would of liked to slice her face, wait, better if she burned instead.
Red face, eyes-wet, she said, “my life I regret…
Nick, we been together 5 years, you’re not the guy that I met!
u think you’re so mature an manly, u know what the funny thing is?
I’m the one who wants a family; you don’t even want any kids.
Back then you never used drugs, school at UW, fucked you up
Shovel/ book; Knowledge the ladder of depression
your mind used, to climb to, the hole that you dug
plus you read about local deaths, You actually like Ted Bundy
*looks around* AND burn bodies for a check!”..I told her,
“But you knew that when we wed, honey.
No man stays the same, Jane, what… wanna leave me because
the job I do, has you coming home to, see me on drugs?
It might seem nuts, but Jesus, do you know how strange it is
to burn a body after a Doc has tried to Operate on it?
When I walk the streets, and see a guy, or hear a girl,
All I seem to think about is the spirit world…
It really fucks with me, babe, that’s why I sniff a little these lines
Each white particle tells me it’ll be fine.
In my dreams I rewind time, before the body’s breath is burned
And lay my face beside the spine,
hoping to breathe in, what in death it’s learned.
It’s the soul’s final moment, so I try to make it speak
From the rotting corpse, on the retort, before it burns away in the heat”
You’re too crazy for me, Nick, im leaving, you hear me?
The second I walk out this door don’t u ever come near me!
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Jane turned to walk away, he yelled HEY! Then socked her in the face
A bad place to be knocked out, this was not where it was safe.
The heat waves, from the furnace flames, made him see the devil
As he opened its frame, hands feeling pain, from the heat of the metal.
He pulled the retort from the stove; it later held Jane’s ash
He bagged it up and went home, hiding her by his cocaine stash.
A week later
He sat at home, sad an alone, now he thought as a crook
His mind wanted murder, so he got out his books.
He read for days how Bundy kept heads, and like an animal
Enjoyed Hannibal L., an how he ate like a cannibal.
He admired the craziness and wanted to go insane; nuts
Grabbed both bags from his stash, mixing the dope an Jane’s dust.

Used a green card to maneuver the lines he took and sniffed
Even put some the shit on a weed bowl, an took a hit of it.
Instantly he felt bothered, his temperature never felt hotter
Took a look at his palm and calmly never held a thing odder.

The mouth of Jane began to scream, he tried to close his sweaty hand
To shut her up, but she bit at his fingers, eating off his wedding band.
He couldn’t stop her from speaking, “Nick, your life is under MY control
Should of never put me in your body, now im alive inside your soul!”
Nick’s eyes rolled back, he ran to the kitchen an grabbed a blade
Put his hand out on the counter top and began to stab away.
Hand disfigured and bloody, he pulled open the same freezing fridge
Where he put her head, to keep, for memories of when she lived.

He threw the head to the swept floor, “kicked the shit deep into cupboards
her mouth reappeared on his neck, “Nick, that’s no way to treat your lover!”
He tried to talk, but lungs choked, every time that he spoke
Her voice rang out in laughter, the type u find in a joke.
He ran to the bathroom mirror in fear, that’s right when it broke
An 5 seconds later took the kitchen knife an put a slice in his throat.
The price of anything
is the amount of life you exchange for it.
Henry David Thoreau
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3lit3
University of Washington
Drama's RSTL GRADE REPORT:
A 95-100% | A- 90-94% | B 85-89% | B- 80-84% | C 75-79%
C- 70-74% | D 65-69% | D- 60-64% | F 59% and below
Last edited by Lord Drama; 06-07-2008 at 07:44 AM.
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