Inspired to My Chemical Romance, writing from the male perspective, and the urge to be so, so bad.

Tell Me I'm a Bad Man

the knife's in my hand again,
that's what I love again -
about you.
always too still
until the first cut -
the kiss of steel makes you shudder so pretty -
then you're alive with fear,
alive with my love.

your eyes beg me to stop,
but I've never known pity
to change my mind before.
the tears almost make me stop,
then I remember -
sadism turns me on.
cry harder, little girl;
your suffering tastes too sweet.

I love it when you fight back.

little struggles in the night
aren't nearly enough.
I like the panic to overcome you
and you to forget
that it's never worked before
because I love the hope in your eyes,
I love that I'm the one who gets
to extinguish it.

you're so pretty when you give up.

it's like sex,
only better,
and oh so much more invasive.
much more satisfying
to see you bleed on my bed,
alive and awake,
than to see you sleeping,
content after a roll in the hay.
plenty of time to sleep
when you're dead.

when you're covered in your own blood
and looking so sexy tied up on my bed,
sometimes I just want to -
all night long.

you whimper,
but I know you like it.
just thinking about it makes me -
just for you, baby.

it's almost like I don't want to,
like I should just wait
another day or two,
but, honey,
I don't like you that much.

where should I end it this time?
head, heart, stomach?
I think the leg.
you'll die soon, sweetie,
and I'll have fun
even if you aren't there.

because I know
you would have wanted
me to be happy.

still, it's a shame.
I loved to hear you
scream for me.