Lauren Hart

Dr. Langlinais
English 10203
7 March 2011

His Baby
My toes graze the floor without a sound,
Eyes of glistening marble widen.
Creep around the corner, push the door
Ever so slowly. I am the hidden camera of
Reality television. Her red hair is
Tossed around like a salad. Her body sways, a
Dazed palm tree in the wind. Not an object of
Affection. Only lust. He loves me.
My voice is hummed at his touch.

Hes the guinea pig, experiment, my eyes

Viewing, only. Sharp-edged knife
Hawing, wailing as it nears his throat.
I protest in a vibrating, deep exclamation.
He folds over as it enters the gut, a plant
Dying of thirst. But his blood
Spills out. I smell his corpse as I
Cry. I scream for help.