c*nt lips are spread, with incisors, scapel to the clits, remove them clean.
Delicately, slowly carve out the twats from between their legs.
In quilted form, vaginas are placed and sewn in intricate patterns,
With the variety of twats, endless designs are achieved.
Of feministic beauty.
Sewn genitals, sculpting to the walls, dripping with disease,
Maggots and flies begin their feast!
The house smells ripe with the stink of menstrual flow.
Overlapping for texture forging a beautiful piece of work.
Fragile hands ever so gently reconstruct freshly cut female,
Trophies gutted from the most intimate of areas.
Carved to perfection,
Discarded remains will not go to waste.
The sickness grandma has is more of an obsession,
Seeing every woman as a who*e to be butchered.
So trusting are those girls towards an old lady
Helping her with chores and quilt making.
Never, expecting - a hammer to the head
Break the skull until their dead.
Stripping the clothes from their soft tasty bodies,
Hang upside down to cut,
Chest high to their c*nts,
Burying her face between their legs.
Soaking her tongue with sweet c*nt nectar,
Laced with male semen from the night before.
Satisfied with the taste of her k**.
The process of mutilating begins.
Women strung up around the house,
Gutted from the stomach with their c*nts removed.
Grandma always did like all my girlfriends.