Carnage

I’ve killed so many people in my imagination,
People that I love...
I have chosen a way to kill them,
I’ve been the grave-digger,
the one who puts them in the hole,
and I have been the one who throws dirt over them.

Supposedly,
the confrontation,
the exposure was gonna make me better.

But I’ve come to realize something,
You,
were not one of those whom I love.

Killing you was the easiest.
My anxiety level didn’t go up,
even a bit!
It was pleasant!
You kept asking why,
though you knew that I never have all the answers.

I know I can dig you up every time,
just to kill you again.
In my story,
it never matters how you die,
as long as I get to bury you with my own hands in the end.

I see myself praying for you,
for the lord to accept you in his kingdom.

It really does taste too good to be my medicine.
Something breaks
and damn it,
It is not my heart this time.
It’s your pride,
Your soul,
Your whole existence,
It’s your beautiful face that breaks. . .
And I wash the blood off of it.

It’s wrong.
It is sadistic,
Aggressive,
And it is sick,
But so are you. . .

I close my eyes,
In my story you just died again,
And I can’t stop laughing.

July 22, 09