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Aug 2019
Outside, it's cold as ice
But I can feel the blistering heat around my neck.
The burning grip, I can't escape
leaving me mutilated as I cease to breathe

These are the hands of a murderer
inhuman and inanimate
I thrash through the embers
in attempt to escape
the vicegrip that leaves me bleeding,
gasping,
burning amongst the flames

I am a brutalized, bleeding corpse.
Pain and indifference drips onto the floor
with every worthless step that I take
The demons have stabbed me repeatedly
I've lost every drop of humanity I had

Everything I've ever loved has been destroyed
This is not what was meant to be
It's me and my demons, and I've just lost it
Someone's going down, and it's not me

Today I will tear the hands of my demons from my brutalized, mutilated face
I will pull the devil's crushing deathgrip
from my lifeless corpse.

I shall watch the blood pour from his body,
Listen to his bones begin to shatter,
and the screeching sound of his
inhuman, brutal wretching
like the squeals of a pig.

I'll set him ablaze and watch him burn.

The devil's vice-grip hands couldn't hold me down.
I'm ready to start my mission.
I'll tie my demons to a tree
and do unto them what they've done to me

I'll tighten these chains around their neck,
Just like they tried to do to me.
I'll watch them suffer, struggle to breathe
Then I'll tighten these chains some more.

and when they think they've reached the end
I'll stab them with knives a hundred times.
Soak them in gasoline, light the match
I'll watch the flesh fall off their burning bodies.

And I'll do it with a smile on my face.

This job will not be done
until each and every one is wholly
unrecognizable,
Skulls shattered into a million pieces,
Bodies thrashed, cut up and burned

They thought they were certainly
stronger than me.
But they would soon meet their demise.
I put a bullet in all their heads
and they all hit the ground, dead.

They should have listened to what I said.
Should have ****** with someone else instead.
I put bullets in all their heads.
Now they're all ******* dead.
A brutal interpretation of claiming victory against depression.
Written by
austin  25/M/Detroit
(25/M/Detroit)   
770
 
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