Sally Anne Morg

The Ways of a Doctor

My hand was yet another shake.

With cringe and mighty force.

She looked at me in shame of hope.

In shame, shall we loose. In hope, shall we not fall.

For the fallen was too mighty. Too wicked for the patterns I knew.

Therefore, abiding to my standards, I took precaution.

There, I was, gazing over little words that led my mind to its habitat.

There, I knew the ways of the words. Taking it and shaping it.

There, I was, molding it into my own desire of learning.

Thus, people cried. Over the little things.

My ink welled signature was no imprtance over the death of a ghost.

For ...

Yellow

Everything is backwards now.

The rythem of her heart. The switch on her soul.

The dreams she has is yellow.

So pale and peach.

The color of restraint. Slow down. Go faster. Give up.

The shade of need. You get there. You fail.

The feeling of a petal dying slowly on the wing of a bumblebee.

The feeling of a crash being unraveled into a timelaspe.

The feeling of bathtub waters, going up and down. Pushing your veins, but never drowning.

The pigment yellow. So slow.

Though this girl knew why she went yellow.

She was black.

And for black, yellow wa...

Sally Anne Morg

My name is Sally Anne Morg.

On the east coast border of Alabama. Wet I was.

Soaked in frogs. Paled in mosquito water.

I used to mail carpets the smell of rotton blood and throw newspaper the feel of molded silk.

I used to sweep dust from the ash of mutilated farms and whip the hairs of the strong bruted horses.

I used to gather lawn wheat for spiders, and tusk oiles from the mammels in my dreams.

It was like a beach with trees of half seasoned bark and magic blood like sap.

It was like abused dirt that carried the feel of dark clouds. Bearing softness with every walk, You find diamonds.

It was like gems, crystals, and glass asphire granted into the rocks that slowly melted, fomring the loudest ray shines of a waterfall.

It happend before my skin was blunted, barked, screwed, yelled, screamed, plunged, and beatend with every abandoned voice that kept me.

In the wild country of dried seaweed and su...

Body Frames I Lust Upon (A Rapist's Mourn)

I laid down.

I woke up after hours of the acoma.

Everybody was laying on the ground like paper cut up.

This was when I knew what was coming for me.

This was when my violent arousal started to wet itself.

The feeling of a deep perseverence that you have the need to go for.

The feeling of the need to feed upon the dead love that bore you.

I know Im crazy, and I know Im speechless.

I know Im worth the values that I terminate, and have the shines of a diamond.

But all the diamonds I saw was calling my name.

I was calling them.

Im sorry. My passion killed your people.

But they were my tribe not yours.

Let me tell.

Their body were the smell of starships and raindust that formed from the dead reindeers of the father time holiday.

But I took into. And made them my bed of rumpseed oil and my filthy desires of thigh blood.

Their body were exsposed to the radient o...

Faces (Multiple Personality Disorder True Story)

Sally, Beth, Sue, John, Marcus, A, B and C are all my friends.

Myself is my friend too.

She does hair.

Girl, she can do hair in all diffrent styles.

Them looks that be on the V mags?...Hell yeaaaa

Myself  told Mack and Blue to go down to the river to collect some pebbles and a rust bucket.

They did so. But they left it at her frontdoor and left with a second.

Myself  told Marcus to tell Aliyah to tell andre that the work was do on the 14th of march at the bloodbath events.

They did so. But they left her with a big mess and left with a second.

Myself even told herself to do it. She got stuck in a drive by, a dragged leg through an alley, black lips, and chains that colored between her legs for the king of vomit.

After the trauma. She had told everybody that she made them. That she was the creator.

She told Sally, Beth, Sue, John, Marcus, Mack, Blue, Aliyah, Andre, A, B, and C that the...

Sickness (Sore Throat)

Discover a metal belt.

As thick as the plasmic form you were built upon.

As the orgo rust informs your skin to decay.

Your thraot as weak as plaster.

As broiled as cemented asphire.

Feel that joyous winds of juju oil and erotic wishes you were never born.

It aches to turn that self free nasty into the bed of soaked premises.

Of filthy rags with wiped coughes and bumpy hardened vomit.

The will is still like a dead roach.

That smell you get when its coming.

Its coming.

Its coming into your lungs to ravish.

To destroy.

To examine its punishment.

To fire the skin of pink washflowers with the oils of cells.

Let it revive.

Dont let it eat.

Starve your sickness to kill upon its dreadful father of the shade of blood.

Let it fell the resentment od scratch dust.

And pain nausea that contained warps of rum DNA

Feel yourself take over...

Teen Argument

Boy-"Dane girl!"

Girl-"Dane boy!"

Boy-"I though you was real!"

Girl-"I though you wasnt playin!"

Boy-"Oh here we go again"

Girl-"Yes here we go again..lover"

Boy-"Froze like sement, heart cold you made me be it"

Girl-"Fainted like that cover, all wet form that rain, you threw it"

Boy-"All I gotta do is ditch and you go cry yoself a latcher"

Girl-"All you ever do  like me, like me not, smoke a pack few ashes, you putin dirt in my cried river"

Boy-"That half pint liter for a quarter went bass after tellin you love stories, oh you choked, thot"

Girl-"Boy getcho lemme hit that wakeup 12 midnight shhh ill take you to that princess land in yo eyes, bull shii yo fake tears"

Boy-"Im tired!"

Girl-"I tried to let my insides of a black kneed girl with red hair to comfort your fantasies"

Boy-"And I tried to let my kush lunged veins on my marked beasty chest black coal skinned ...

I, Extraterrestrial

In the beginning.

I was formed.

From a gore seed stomach.

Bled purple ramseed and german gue.

That metal hammer. The liquid got rusted.

I became infected.

An enemy to the lining of the stomach.

It's sickning was guilted. Strenthned.

Shut and close. Gooz like simmered grease.

It burned like the smell of molten harshwood.

Pushed. I was in a tube. With the silk lining of seeds.

Still on me.

My long skined hair grew long.

I was dumped.

Experiment of worthlessness.

They say I was a child of Octopunian and the female trait of knowlege.

But the dump did not kill the soul.

It was alive.

And I ran and grew.

And my instincs are of painful mating and goreful love.

Though my innocence glow.

Female.

I, Extraterrestrial.