Gypsi with a Needle

A poem based on my story.


I creep from behind

Quiet through the door.

Here sits my Gypsi on her bedroom floor.


Stench of cheap perfume

Drowns me to a cough

Mozart on repeat. She never turns it off.


Gingerly I step

Sitting on her bed.

Gypsi just doesn’t care – doesn’t turn her head.


All around, all about

Scattered here and there

Lay cutthroat pieces of a dead teddy bear.


In goes the needle

Out comes the thread

Deep through the flesh of the teddy bear’s head.


Granny smith eyes

Shot blood red

Tears stain the pillow on her unmade bed.


Poised pen in hand,

“Far as I can see,

Didn’t make friends when I made up you and me.”


Green gaze flashes up,

“Author, tell me why

You killed my baby sister

And left me with a lie.”


Published by


I am a 7-year-old​ stuck in a twenty-something's body. I enjoy long walks on the beach and peanut butter on waffles. If the following combinations of letters mean anything to you: OYAN, LotR, F.R.O.G., AiO, OBPC, DIY Then we can be friends. And if not, we still can be friends!

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