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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: Close to home (Dahmer part2)dots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: Localfreak
    ASL Info:    37, Maybe, Here
    Elite Ratio:    5.37 - 131/123/76
    Words: 326
    Class/Type: Poetry/Misc
    Total Views: 1005
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 1967



    Description:
       The first line of this work belongs to "Wolfstar" on this forum.
    Thank you for inspiring me and letting me steal your words


    Make the font bigger!! Double Spacing Back to recent posts.

    dotsClose to home (Dahmer part2)dots
    -------------------------------------------


    "Out of sight, but oh so very close to home"

    Incarcerated deep.
    Beneath 5000 tons of liquid murk
    He thought he'd heard the last

    Shackled good and tight.
    Wrapped snug within tarpaulin fashion
    His silent prisoner

    Remnants of your memory are all that should remain
    Yet still he hears you speak to him from where your body lays
    Gurgling through a snorkel made from gauze and cotton wool
    no breath could ever penetrate that depth, but still you call

    Teasing him with torments dredged up from his own desire
    That want within, you kindled as you would a bashful flame
    His youth had bare begun when you took innocence away
    No more, no more, he won the fight you have no right to stay.

    He'd moved so far away.
    A nations breadth to separate your voice.
    Your voice that sits upon the lips of womankind in whispered breaths

    I see his anger rising when I catch his simple gaze
    Each night I hear him speak to you, begging your forgiveness
    And when I speak, my words are yours as many others were.

    A sadness burns within his heart, a longing for a lover lost
    As I guess it was when he was young when a mothers love was passed.
    Your life is gone please let him be, stay silent in your crypt
    You are the one to hold this blame for what your love cost him.

    Yes, your blackness envelopes you
    And the inky depths caressing your spirit ebb gently at his life
    While the twisted love you showed a child is repaid in kind on down the line

    You suffered short, his end will not be so
    And when he's gone he shall never be "oh so close to home."
    For grandmother, you taught your son well
    And for what you did to him, he did to me, I'll see you both in hell.




    Submitted on 2008-03-26 00:09:54     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    ||| Comments |||
      i like your stuff...it is like in this poem..something buried deep that we still can hear...the words cry out...they won't let our conscience sit unopposed...

    really caught the dementedness of a serial killer here...and poses the question...deep deep down is there a conscience..is there a voice...is there ever regret for the things done...

    can any individual be that cold...

    and how much do we blame environment and parenting...for what happens later...

    very intriguing write...as are others i have read by you...

    jacob
    | Posted on 2011-03-18 00:00:00 | by jacoberin | [ Reply to This ]
      Good job of imaging here. I love the whole sad, disturbed, dark depths of lonileness thing. I was trying to think of what to give you as "feedback" rather than just saying I love it. I think it would work even if you couldn't get permission for that first line. I'll add as a favorite.
    | Posted on 2008-03-28 00:00:00 | by lovedeathsdeath | [ Reply to This ]


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    Be kind, take a few minutes to review the hard work of others <3
    It means a lot to them, as it does to you.


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