I had a dream the other night that I held my heart in your hands. I stared down at in grotesque fascination watching its pumps and shudders. The pleasure I felt was never so great in savagely squeezing and feeling the blood trickle down my hands hearing the far-off scream in the distance, a sweet sound of agony as I imagined your gasps and splutters, as I wrung out your heart for everything you had ever done and threw it into the dirt, watched it shrivel into itself, before spitting in the general direction and walking away to find your body, cold and lifeless, pale, your chest still ****** from where I shoved my hand through. I watched the life dwindle out of your eyes as I began to laugh, laugh as God help me I laughed, with excitement and cry with anticipation, waking, knowing someday I’ll hold your heart in my hand, and stare at it, and squeeze.