AN: this is a very angry poem with bad language, sex, death, murder just about everything under the sun that would make Christians shudder but go ahead and read you know you wanna. (And it doesn't rhyme on purpose fyi)
Ah the peaceful serene
The joy, your smile
The perfect little indent
In my eyes
Bitch, get the fuck out of my face
Awe look at that she's crying
Let me hand you a tissue
Yikes I didn't mean to shove it down your throat
Watch it or you might choke
You know I never learned the Heimlich maneuver
Though I guess I should have
Seeing the predicament I'm in now
Shh you might wake up the neighbors
With you pleading cries of pleasure
The kneading of my right hand
That is sure to bring a whore like you over the edge
Turn away from me with that helpless look in your eye
Why can't you scream at me?
And tell me what a power hungry bitch I am?
Wow I suppose I am better then I thought
But then again all women cower under my insatiable touch
How did that get in my hand?
What did you say?
Yes I agree this knife is awfully shiny
It goes nicely with your complexion
Do you agree?
Don't whimper at me
It will only hurt for a minute
I have said that a lot haven't I?
I don't expect you to believe me
Don't you dare scream!
Take it like the slut you are
Don't call me crazy!
So maybe pain and sex aren't the greatest combination
But who said peanut butter and jelly was so great?
Look at all the velvet red on my hands
And the punctures on your once flawless skin
It reminds me of strawberry preserves
I'm kind of hungry
Care if I take a taste?
Did you die on me already?
Damn it all to hell
And the fun didn't even begin yet
But before I toss you in my trunk
I want you to know I love you
It was because of my love
That I chose to be one with you
Be there when you died
Play god for an hour or so
I wanted you to die by my hands
That way no one else can have you
So now you look dazed
Almost like you did after that crazy party
You remember the one were you were so drunk you made out with Chris?
Then you crawled to me apologizing and vomiting
Begging for help
You had the same glazed look in your eye
I miss you already
Well there is no time for regret
When you have a body in your hands
AN: did you like? Did you hate it? Tell me all about it! It was random, maybe not even a poem really, but what defines a poem anyhow? And who decides whether one is worthy to be called a poet?