You see the blood dripping
from her hands.
You watch in silence
as she traces her nails along
the sides of his neck.

She looks at you and you see
a smile on her face.
He is crying now, begging her to stop.

His hands are bloodied and tied,
purple bruises on his wrists.
His face, forever disfigured
by the jagged little knife
she clutches so softly.

She is a killer and you know it.
She is a killer who likes to play
with her food.

She looks at you with a smile on her face.
She looks at you and you're staring
at your own reflection.
-Nathaniel MarkHim (-V)