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Tree Songs
I'm a hippy at heart, an artist with political convictions, and a girl whose heart takes her wherever the brain will allow.
The sweat dripped gently
The thrusting kept pounding
The movements were rough
The hands were hard
The eyes were steady and cold
The mouth was straight and solid
The muscles were flexed
The sounds were muted

Her screams didn't make it
Her hands bound tight
Her tears rolled
Her body tried to twist
Her hips gave out
Her eyes closed shut
Her body going limp
Her mind becoming blank

He was finished
He left accomplished

She was left for dead
She was mutilated

He went on with his life
She still felt the knife
He was never tried
She was never justified
He saw her one day
She counldn't look away
He left scars on her face
She wanted to chase
He laughed and smiled
She was far from mild
He turned to walk
She couldn't talk
He was having fun
She pulled out the gun
He died on the street
She couldn't feel her feet
He was gone
She was next

The bullet killed them both that day
The bullet made them fade away





 
 
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