The Killer in Her

She is on the hardwood floor,
Dumbfounded, staring at the ceiling,
Has tears streaming from her eyes,
Cannot figure out a reason why.

Her head is gyrating her to a daze,
And her body trembles with pain,
Searching for the answers,
She can only thrash her head.

The affliction makes her smirk,
Amused by the repelling throb,
She's sorry she's psychopathological,
That she wants to rend people to shreds.

Tired of being a spastic case,
Her body trembles once again,
Preventing herself from lurid crimes,
The terror to thrust upon people.

Mother, she wants to slain her,
Men, she wants to beat and castrate them,
Herself, she wants to slice whole,
And to end the pathetic humanity.

On the Earth she wish would end,
Because of cliche events and beings,
But she cannot move now,
Stuck on the floor with voices.

She is a tantrum girl,
Fisting her throbbing head,
All the vivid images in her mind,
Wasting away from her own thoughts.

The beating on her flesh ceases,
She is responsible for insubstantial crimes,
Not a killer, but still conceals her face,
Leaving on the path to no where.

Laying there with death fantasies,
Insane, but she feels normal,
The girl has no prominent place to go,
She stays on the hardwood floor.

August 22nd