The thought of my thoughts
So perverse and arise
Gave heed to my needs
So deceiving and contrived

To you, the one
Whom sat there so silent
My thoughts of you were perfect
So simple, so violent

Now you are here
Under my blade, my render
Screaming for your loved ones
Your husband, your mother

But what will you scream
When no sound can be heard
I think it will be nothing
Not one syllable, nor word

You cough and gasp
As I watch from above
You cry and squirm
As a pool forms of your blood

I watch you fade
As your eyes drain of life
I sit here in peace
Slowly cleaning my knife