every now and then I consider murdering someone
just for the fun of it
a thought invading my brain and then it's off
to the graveyard of hopes & dreams
or wherever that **** goes

I once considered murdering the voice in my head
it belongs to the man who lives across the street from me
I'm one side of a magnet and he's a *****
if you get what I'm saying.

once I bashed his ******* head in that was nice
snot and blood and bile and
who knows what else dripping from
his smashed eye sockets
I had good dreams that night

if I had the chance
how would I go about it?
a slash to the throat maybe
frame his ******* toddler in her tricycle
a club to the brain is quicker
but so last week
maybe cyanide in his soup
his lips turning blue and convulsing before me
or ******* on his throat
squeezing and squeezing
and ******* squeezing some more

but you mustn't think I'm mad, per se
I'm working on dismissing my thoughts
and I've only ever truly killed one person:

Me

The flicker of last nights midnight memory rushed through my head
the heart gave an obligatory thump while it tried to double summersault
it was the slightest touch bare skin on bare skin but I felt it so deep
magnatised by the heat in your stare, hips arching to its target
lips parted hanging in the air sending out invitations without care
it was a moment locked in eternity and you bent your head everso slightly
I swore swore you leaned in just before your phone rang
and love had brought you back to your senses and left me with
sweet nothings and a ache gouged deep across my pelvis
that tore me unexpectedly all the way through my heart

because you texted to say hey.