She loves every one of her victims.
From the bottom of her cold well of a heart,
she loves them.
She would never kill
an innocent creature;
they all deserve it.
She stalks her prey,
she gets in close,
they begin to whisper
their evil little secrets.
No one is blameless.
She knows this.
Dig deep enough,
find the truth.
It is soiled.
She slits their throats.
You are released
from your sins,
she ensures them.
Through hot blood,
they promise they love her, too.
He was Daniel Kingery to the police.
Daniel Overstreet to his friends.
He was Dollar Dan on the streets.
He was Daniel,
he was wet rough kisses and anger and lust to me.
He found me one day,
18 years to his 37,
he found me when i was still a question mark trying to bleed red.
From behind a lens pointed at my naked flesh
he became a man of mystery,
he became the object of my desires.
I was a young, naive girl who got caught up in
how his pockets were always full- he flaunted it.
The flowers and the exotic dinners and the alcohol and the touch...
oh god, the way we fell into bed,
Then i fell in love on a broken sidewalk.
I was blind to the empty shadows in his eyes,
to the lines he had recited,
to the webs on his face.
I made a god out of a sociopath and i called him "love".
I was his nympho, his baby blue.
I became wild under his touch,
manic when he gave me his attention,
suicidal at his leaving.
I was a flower that once was his favorite,
but he left me on the windowsill at a slow, burning wilt
and forgot to water me most days.
Why water a flower when you could have a garden?
Have you ever hated what you loved
until even their existence ate at you?
this is how you get right with god
on your hands and knees,
" could you spare me please"
this is how you deal with his wrath,
when you're pleading with him
and strangers turn their backs to mummer "that ones a sociopath"
and it echoes in your pounding head,
their grins and hacking laughs
"that ones a sociopath,
that ones a sociopath"