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Tag Archives: mental asylum

Bad Tounge-Part Two (That Cunning Linquist)

21 Thursday Apr 2016

Posted by stevenjohnno in poems, stories, Uncategorized

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crazy, mental asylum

In Part ONE an Inmate in a Facility for the Insane.

Has stopped taking His Medication.

And a Bad Tongue has started to talk deep inside His

Brain.

The Inmate Killed Two Guards in a bid for freedom.

But then He changed His Mind and returned to His

Padded Cell instead.

He cleaned up all of the Blood.

And got rid of all of the Evidence.

He thinks that He has got away with Murder.

And is Home free.

What will happen next?

Well read on and You shall see.

Part TWO.

Well after that introduction let Me introduce Myself.

My Name is Clayton Firestone.

And I have been locked away in this place for over a Decade.

They say that I have Killed Ten People.

And that doesn’t include the Two Guards.

But I don’t remember a thing.

So here I am in this Loony Bin

The Facility is located in Upstate New York.

And I desperately need to get back Home to Chicago.

With or without permission.

And even crazy old Me knows that I will never be

released while I am still Breathing.

And even though I am a bit out of practise

I am still good at deceiving.

I have been taking My Medication

Like a good little Crazy Man should.

And that Bad Tongue has gone all quiet.

I had grown to like that Bad Tongue.

It is like having an imaginary Friend living inside

My Head.

To a Mad Man like Me it made a lot of sense.

Maybe the Time has come to see if the Grass is Greener

on the other side of the Fence.

I still cant believe that I got away with Killing those Two

Guards.

After an investigation the Authorities cant Name a Suspect.

But I know that they will never give up.

They will catch Me in the end.

Now go away.

I need to talk to My imaginary Friend.

So once again I stop taking My Medication.

And after a few Days My Skin starts to itch.

And My crazy little Heart starts to Flutter.

And once again My Head is filling up with bad words.

As that Bad Tongue starts to Mutter.

That Bad Tongue tells Me that the Facility is built above

an old abandoned Mine.

And that a Tunnel is only Twenty Feet down.

That Bad Tongue keeps talking and talking.

As My crazy thoughts keep going round and round.

But how am I supposed to Dig when I am confined to

a Padded Cell?

And I haven’t exactly got a Cell full of Tools.

Plus My Cell is on the Third Floor.

So I decide to start taking My Medication.

Then I wont Hear that Bad Tongue no more.

Then I remember that the Kitchen is on the Ground Floor.

If I could get a Job down there I would have access to  all

different types of Tools.

And I could finally escape from this Ship of Fools.

I take all of My Medication.

And pretend that I have grown a pair of Angels Wings.

Butter wouldn’t melt in My Mouth.

But then I Hear a Voice deep in the back of My Brain.

That Fucking Bad Tongue is talking once again.

I am taking all of My Medication.

So why am I still Hearing Voices?

I am telling You now Dear Reader

I think I am running out of choices.

It has been Months now.

And I am still confined to My Cell

I have been a Good Boy.

So why haven’t I been moved to the Kitchen?

God will I ever get some Peace?

That Bad Tongue is still moaning and Bitching.

Then the Next Day a Guard Named Reggie McBride

opens up My Cell Door.

And He tells Me that I am being moved to the Ground

Floor.

I am now a Member of the Culinary Dispensing Team.

In other Words a Kitchen Hand.

But I can now start Dreaming the freedom Dream.

I arrive at the Kitchen.

Itching and rearing to go.

I can almost smell the taste of freedom

It is almost within My Reach.

Then that Bad Tongue start to talk real loud.

And starts to Preach.

Clayton the Ground down here is as hard as a Rock’

You will never be able to Dig Your way through it’

‘We will have to come up with a better Plan instead’

What?

Is this Bad Tongue a Good Tongue after all?

I feel like giving that Bad Tongue a good Kicking

A real Tongue licking.

That Bad Tongue is a Cunning Linquist.

It speaks in many Tongues.

It speaks straight from the Hip

And lands You deep in the Shit.

I am really confused.

Am I hearing  a forked Tongue?

Is that Bad Tongue a Tongue that likes to give pleasure?

Or a Tongue that likes to inflict some Pain?

But as You know sometimes Pleasure and Pain.

Is one and the same.

Now I know for sure that there is no escaping.

I will be here for Eternity.

There isn’t any chance of Me Jumping the Wire

Maybe that Bad Tongue is nothing more than a Liar?

That Bad Tongue just wont shut up.

Why isn’t My Medication working?

I am supposed to be nice and Sedated

So why is that Bad Tongue still talking in My brain?

It feels like I am dragging around a Heavy Cerebral

Ball and Chain.

I think that I might be having a Stroke.

Something in My Head just snapped.

But I don’t feel any Pain.

Then I remember that it is just Me being Me.

Because after all I am Criminally Insane.

I am not Locked away for nothing.

I have done a lot of bad things.

And right now I want to do some more.

I am badder than  Hannibal Lector Jeffrey Dahmer or

Ted Bundy.

I am Clayton Firestone.

So You better lock up Your Daughter and Your Grandma to

Young or old they will Die just the same.

So You better not forget My Name.

But than again that isn’t entirely True.

Some go down easy.

While Others will put up a Fight.

Nobody wants to Die.

But give Me half a chance

And I will make sure that You do.

And yes Dear Reader.

You aren’t Immune either.

I will Kill You to.

I am hearing a new sound.

The lovely sound of silence.

Maybe that Bad Tongue has gone to Sleep?

Or  it is now residing in Someone else’s Brain?

Well that is their loss and My gain.

I was going to go out in a Blaze of Glory

But now I really couldn’t be bothered

So I just go back to My Cell

Lay down on My Bed

And I rest My crazy little Head.

If You have a spare Hour or Two.

Why don’t You come and visit Me?

I promise that I will be nice.

But if You get too close.

You may pay a very heavy price.

Keep an Eye out for Bad Tongue- Part Three

THE END

Thanks for taking the time to read one of my stories and could you please make a donation so i can achieve my dream and become a fulltime writer. Thanks again Steven.

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