Graveyard Reprise
Six feet of clay, maggots in my grin,
the soil remembers every scream I’ve pinned.
Blood thick as secrets, black under the tongue,
I claw from the dirt when the warnings are sung.
Legends are cowards, hiding behind locks.
I’m the sick little voice that laughs when the heartbeat stops.
My shadow’s a rumor that lives in the crawlspace.
I haunt every basement where terror has a face.
No ghost, no chains, no rattling lies,
just meat and memory and rot in my eyes.
I’m the itch in your bones when the sun goes black,
the hand on your throat when you won’t look back.
Fingernails cracked, hands full of graves,
my love song is written in the scars I gave.
I’m not some phantom, not a trick or a tale,
just boots on your chest and the weight of betrayal.
Every locked door, every whispered prayer—
I was born from your fear, I was nursed on despair.
Blood on the stairs, hair in the drain,
I’m the throb in your skull that screams out your name—
but not the one they gave you, the one you earned,
scratched on the walls with every lesson you learned.
Rats in the rafters, teeth in the dark.
Every old wound remembers my mark.
I feed on the shriek when the power goes dead.
I’m the wet thing breathing underneath your bed.
Not an angel, not a demon, just the knife in the crawl,
the silence that follows when you can’t scream at all.
I gut every hero, I poison their cause.
I dance with the cowards who die for applause.
This grave is a cradle, this coffin a stage.
I serenade bones and the ache of the cage.
I kill by the dozen, I feast by the score.
Every corpse is a chorus, every scream an encore.
Tell your children my story, hope they never believe—
but I’ll claw up the drainpipe and wipe my hands on your sleeve.
I’m the secret you swallow, the filth that you breathe,
a love letter written with razors in the weave.
You can bury me deeper, you can salt every trace,
but evil’s a habit you can’t ever erase.
Horror’s my bride, she wears a shroud.
Together we fuck beneath thunder and cloud.
No priest can bless what was damned in the dirt.
No prayer can soften the taste of the hurt.
Graveyard reprise, maggot crown.
I rise from the rot and drag you down.
Rotting and laughing, the slasher unblessed—
I drag every heartbeat down into my chest.