The Pig Butcher

Pickton pulled the trigger. 

finished her off. 

Her crime was bigger,

Left in a trough.

Squeals of delight,

Grinding her down,

Hidden from sight,

Miles from town.

Ribbons of flesh,

entrails, sinew and bone 

Minced through mesh,

Can’t hear her moan.

Empty roads wet with rain,

Deserted, discarded dead.

Silence screams p...

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The bitch is dead.

Spewing hatred from her empty eyes.

She fought back,

Skin under her broken nails,

She never suspected him.

Her beautiful lover boy.

His deathly kiss,

He pinned her to the wall,

Staple gun kisses,

Fastened her down,

Tight as a lover's arms.

She fell for his charms.

Smeared bloody lipstick stuck to his face,

Deathly bite holding its place.

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She sat amongst her dollies

Hair all chopped and matted

their legs broken battered,

Biro on each painted face.

The fingers bitten off,

Spat out and thrown away.

Their toes all flat and mangled,

Their eyes poked closed and gone.

Each one no more a beauty,

Each one now dead and gone.

She did it as a child 

To each and every toy.

Her mummy used to smack her,

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