Number Twelve Looks Like You If They Holler Don't Let Go
If They Holler, Don't Let Go
It's been a few years,
and still I carry many fears
the game has opened back up, so now it's time to play catch up
the rats are caught and thrown into their playground,
upon consciousness, a letter is to be found,
"tag your it, time to go seek.
listen to my directions and don't miss a beat.
your four buddies are hiding, waiting to be found,
combine the different body parts in the outline on the ground.
Arms from #10, Legs from #24, Torso for #3...
Last but not least, head from #12, then you're almost free.
Dress your friend on the ground with the clothes on your back.
yell "tag you're it!" and give him a nice big loud smack.
A door will open that will let you go,
and you just played the game you ruined for me a long time ago."
the letter drops as he runs towards the yells,
found tied and blindfolded is #10,
legs chained up so he doesn't walk away ever again.
Our compassionless friend doesn't even think twice,
"please please stop!"
my childish games rattle on like a tick tock clock
you never foresee danger when you're at play.
He's laid down and get his arms untied,
friend sits down, putting a foot to #10's ribs.
With the other foot against his head,
he grips his buddies arm tightly which is sitting between his legs.
his arm is tugged and twisted, with all his might.
shredded off like the wing of a bird who will never take flight.
With the arms thrown over his shoulders,
the blood dripping down his back makes him feel colder.
placing his findings in the outline on the ground,
it's time for more meat to be found.
"i can see why, I can see the light,
my insides have finally caught daylight.
he showed the real me, a torture machine.
mom don't wait up or you'll be another cleanup."
one by one, the meat began to take form.
the old bodies newly transformed,
before he knew it the final task had been performed.
quickly he was released from the mouse trap,
i was eager to play with my new friend.
pounding into the mutated meat,
i still feel a bit of their body heat.
"you're a world of light" she told me.
"I'm darker than black" I replied.
I'm tripping on my hundredth excuse
and I don't intend to turn back now.
With the leaves in my hair, I climb towards the clouds.
how will I ever find my way home.
Our victims deserved a last meal.
...my childish games rattle on like a tick tock clock.
