Social life
Throat starts to close
Like a Downsect in its death throes
Flatline, heart death
Flowing pain
Cramping up your left arm vein
Sweat begins to slowly come
Bugs will crawl
Insane to some
Take your pills
Don't be afraid
Sixlegs, thorax
'Come to me,' she said
Flesh inside begins to chill
People near have had their fill
Then you find her waiting there
Just what you need
Only play fair
Have your cake and eat it too
She's nothing like her
Wouldn't you?
Red-black hair
Germanic thighs
Blackened leather
Chrome-dead eyes