Your Poetry Dot Com - The Cold Logic of Insanity (2)

For the first time since I reached my decision,
I find myself hesitating to act,
I look down into the scared, wide eyes,
And think of the trouble I attract.
My first practice piece… a male,
With his hands bound behind his back,
He pleads with me as he claims innocence,
True, he’s never hurt me, do I attack?

I could just embrace my darkness alone,
And be safe in the knowledge that I’m dying,
I could wait until my salvation comes,
But look, this pathetic soul’s crying.
He only wanted a quick shag in the alley,
To satisfy his mortal needs,
He only wanted to fumble around with me,
But its disturbing that this fool breeds.

I could turn and walk away now, he tells me,
He’ll never speak of this to a living person,
If I’d just let him live on happily,
There’s really no need for this worsen.
Is it wrong of me to find this amusing?
How he will beg and plead for his life,
This fool who is no better than myself,
I laugh as I show him my knife.

It’s a pretty little thing that shines,
The dim light of the streetlamp makes it glow,
The silver of the blade almost warms in excitement,
It knows that this will be nice and slow.
I kick the man over hard,
Until he’s lying, crushing his hands, on his back,
He’s staring at me now with fear in his eyes,
He knows now that I won’t cut him any slack.

Its messy work but damn it’s refreshing,
The sight of the blood flowing free,
I feel nothing but a perverse giddiness,
I’m doing it, I’m loving it, I’m me.
I cut him deep from neck to groin,
And promise to castrate him too,
The blood now gurgles from his mouth,
But his eyes now stare right through.

I straddle his thighs as I work,
Watching his ragged breaths slow,
I wanted him to feel everything,
And so quickly I move below.
The knife now drowning in crimson tears,
Makes quick work of the task,
I drag it back and forwards, sawing,
Until at last, I sit and bask.

In my hand I hold his wounded pride,
And I throw it high into the air,
His life left him seconds ago,
And he went without a prayer.
Finishing what I planned now,
I leave his own prick hanging between his parted lips,
I tear the flesh of his chest open wider,
And once more, I straddle his hips.

I back away and leave him there,
I’m covered in his blood, I am aware,
I take one last look at the scene before me,
Then I grin and go without a care.
Already planning my next task,
I choose one of the bastards I hate,
I’m glad I went ahead with it now,
It truly will be worth their bait.

This poem is Copyright ยฉ becca589