April Fox

Such a lonely boy, sitting in the corner

pulling off the heads

from all your little dolls

twisting up their limbs like rubber bands,

angry that you never had

the strength you need to break them

Poking holes in fragile skin, stabbing orifices raw

They are headless spewing bile

from their bitter brains

Even bruised, decapitated

dead

you make them sick

and in the middle of the night,

while you lie dreaming in the dark,

fat chins suffocating

choking out your breath,

they will be stitched together, artificial hearts

and iron lungs to stay alive and they will visit you

and they will crawl inside

and make you

scream.