Learn more about other poetry terms

In the dead of night, we boarded the boat to save our lives. I was woken in my sweat, as I was shaken by my wife. She grabbed our screaming daughters; I loaded a boat with supplies.
Knife carving into the soft squishy flesh; blood dribbling off the plate. Letting out a faint subtle sigh, admiring his handiwork.  
It started with a click.  A single click ended their lives.  Like perfect little China dolls, they were shipped out and arrived at her door. Each one marked with their names: Hansel and Gretel.
I'm not cuckoo, deranged, or completely cracked. I hardly even ever wear black I'm not a vamp wannabe or Satan's spawn. I don't worship the weird, taboo or wrong.
Subscribe to cannibalism