I seat in dread,
It's the corpses,
It's the tension,
And foul stench.

The way the blood drips,
Gently onto my skin,
From my head,
I'm sleepy though.

I want to rest,
I'm convinced,
I need it,
But lately I've been too convinced.

And trouble follows,
It's attracted to me,
It loves my impulses,
My irrational decisions.

That dance with danger,
With no care in the world,
Just pure self indulgence,
They love my destructive self.
By:Jn