How fun it is to stare but not be seen
My next person has no idea
They continue to write about me
As if that will stop me
Continuing my collections
The missing pieces of their memories become My Masterpiece
As they Sleep, I am the Queen and King of their Nightmares
Their Fear of me keeps my Image locked securely inside of their Subconscious
Seeing him from afar, oh how much I have collected from you
Your hair, your clothes, your arms, your legs, your eyes, lips, heart
You are all warped up in that pretty Birthday Box just for Me
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