Up from the waters, drifted towards the surface
Onto the shore,
Tiptoeing, a ballet dancer
Slowly towards the cabin where they slept
Picking up an old ax in the yard
She remembers so well
Creeping in through the window, into their room
She watched them sleep
Twitching, dripping with water, covered in moss
Then with the ax in her hand, removed their heads
And their limbs, arms and legs
Then their blood replaced the water
Dripping from her face.

Quietly
Into the kitchen she stepped, with cautioun
Snatching a sharp, rusty old scalpel from the drawer
Then back into the room, she stained the carpet floor
With the crimson paint
And used the tool to remove pieces of their flesh
Piece by piece, she tore at it
And dug her fingers deep into their chest
Pulling out the ugly organs and bones
Then finally with nails and a hammer,
Madly pounding pieces to the wall
Then she stripped herself of her old ragged clothes
And indulged herself in the array
Of flesh, guts, and blood
Remembering her times when naiveté was strong
And her childish ways were stolen in the room
Of the floor she now lays upon
Her smiles, and laughter was taken
Along with her innocence
Her delicate rose

Torn

Her life taken with a gun
Thrown into the nearby lake,
But again awake
Raised and developed in hate,
Her home developed in love
When finally
She laughed as a maniac would,
As she cried tears of blood
Rolling around, and screaming out loud
"I USE TO FUCKING LIVE HERE ONCE!!"