All cigarette, no hands
A heavy face carries with it an altogether heavier grin
These shifty shark-eyes case the dilapidated joint
Utter, eerie silence snared
And no-one gets to see a single thing
No bringing this manically struggling body back to life
Wriggling for all of its ungodly worth
Squirts of cascading blood here and there
The stand over’s bloodied leg trembles every which way atop an all too theatrically placed wicker-chair
His darkened, sweat-ridden hair – folded over in makeshift mounds – balances above his cackling shoulders
This behemoth three-foot boulder about to be dropped atop his shrieking nemesis’ head will create his final forever bed

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