Winter
Autumn’s last leaf pirouettes on a
cold wind,
cold enough to freeze your tits off,
then falls.
Basking in this great silence like I’m
the only one left,
I light a cigarette.
The dog is staring at me in that
curious way,
wondering what’s next,
“Go on, boy. Go piss.”, I say.
It’s moments like these,
when the world is all alone,
under a blanket of snow that
I wish you were all dead.
Horror Sleaze Trash 