I smile and nod
Because they think I have a soul.
My conscience within me sleeps
Even as I hurl stones at its window,
Begging for a terrible gut feeling
To keep me away from destruction.
My conscience never calls,
And my heart grows more swollen each and every day.
I am the queen of my own world.
I get what I want,
The queen of the gutter.
How much longer will it be until I crash?
A dagger through every heart somehow tangled in my web,
And the largest through the huntress',
Crimson fountains aspew.
That's when my conscience calls,
Screaming at the top of my lungs.
Not until the bodies lay cold on the linoleum
Will the guilt arise to eat me alive.