Author: lucretiabaine PM
This is a story of many things, none of which are very pleasant.Rated: Fiction T - English - Angst/Horror - Chapters: 3 - Words: 629 - Reviews: 6 - Published: 06-21-05 - id: 1945172
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You asked me if I knew how to cry
As filthy black goo leaked down your face.
Those droplets were your concentrated regret
Because you've never known how good you've always been.
You didn't have this coming, dear.
I did it (mostly) for the fun,
And I shall have to sell your soul now,
For you were never cold as I.
Here you are, cut apart, tortured, bleeding …
I've reopened all the ugly scars you love,
But I am still too gruesome for you to face.
I can understand your disgust as I laugh…as I pick you apart…
Well, I have sinned, if that's a problem.
I have always had the worst intentions,
And each time I peel flesh from bones, I see her---
She's always seen fit to never go away.
She haunts me in the deathliest form,
But only in my mind is it such.
I hate her innocence; I have since I was eight…
And you're the same little girl, ruining lives carelessly.
You are pretty colored poison to me
Without its beauty and without its allure.
Am I disgusting to dismantle your fried skull?
Well, you'll be fine soon, and I shall too.
I now saw off your arms, a shade darker than mine,
But fucked by you in your regrettable past.
Isn't it better when you really can't stop it?
I won't make it glorious, but I'll be perfect.
If I had a soul, I know I would hold onto it…
I'd never deny the inhumanity of death
Of this slaughter, of this laughter…
But at least I'm not weak like you.