Brownstonelit's Blog

10/8/10

She stood at the Emerald Gates and knocked to come in.

She may have been kicked out of the house by her mother and father right after high school. She may have lived with an Aunt. She may have done a lot of things, but none of them worth being murdered for.
I will come back to these things again and again…
The four in flannel.
The white dog that followed her everywhere.
The muddy boots.
Protecting the brotherhood.
The three that strangled- the one that watched.
The blood on the shovel.
The compass that pointed.
The number 7 that marked the spot!

I am here at the gates of Oz… knock, knock, knock.
The lake, the grave… the night it all went down.

This entry was posted on October 8, 2010 at 11:06 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.