I wish to be
an infamous serial killer,
that targets love-thirsty men.
I mean,
wouldn't it be interesting
to slash through their hearts,
with sharp, flirtation glances,
or cutting through entrails
to look for stomach butterflies,
what about blowing up their minds,
when I don't respond to convos,
and kneeing them with shrugs
till they beg for attention.
alas,
I was victimised,
before I can even morph into
a cold-blooded murderer myself
then I realise my looks are not good enough for it. oh well.