Jitter Issue #3
Suicide Hill
Suicide HillSlashed to ribbons, memoriesIn hollows where the cadavers screamWhere something touches meWith a claw that can freezeThat transcends even the withered skyWhose raging rain is phantom filledAnd was long ago mummifiedBut now it somehow slithers and crawls even stillTowards a long haired unkempt cemeteryWhere waits for me six feet underYet can never peacefully sleepShe who was supposed to be my brideBut who learned when poison was stealthily pliedThat some men are not to be by marriage yokedBut when I told her she thought that was a jokeAnd thought the baby in her wombWould translate into wedded bliss for her ere soonBut when the nemesis of rats was upon her plateShe crossed into the great unknown without a mateAnd fool, oh such a fool was IThat I thought that would be the end when she diedBut death knows not what to do with such as sheAnd so she has since then not given meeven a moment's peaceAnd is at my elbow both day and nightReminding me that a promise should never be a lieAnd though she is now but decomposing boneShe awaits our honeymoon with fervor stillSix feet under on Suicide Hill