Killer

08 Oct 2004

SICKNESS
I found your rose in my back pocket,
You left it there when you last searched for forgiveness,
You ran away when my instinct raped your attention.
I'm a killer, taste my blood,
Then drink with me, drive the illness.
Your liquids intoxicating my thoughts,
Fuelling my hunger for pain...I watch you die.
Spill more of your empty tears, cry, lie!

I see the beauty in your suicide,
Don't stop, push me into the sweetness of myself,
My sadistic eyes holding the images safe till I blink.
I did not kill you, I'm a killer because I observe,
I watch how you are dying, and I like it.

7 April 2004 (GERMANY)

Free Verse

Metaphorical

37

0

SICKNESS

Well, what can I say...By day I'm a Body Modification Artist, helping people be comfortable in their own skins and helping them do it in a creative way. I have my own Business called "Concreate Body Art" and our motto is "Concreate Comfort Beyond...

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