The cries, the screams
Ripping out the hearts
Of innocent souls
Tearing them to pieces
The chilling smile,
The evil laugh
The periodic lies  
Repetion
Repetion
Killing anything in his path
Making any joyful thing die
Painting roses with the blood of his victims
Drawing them in with a sinister act
Acting as if you care
But destroying them
Repetition
Repetition
No sense of feeling
No appeal for emotions
Throwing around the
"I love you"s
Eroding Trust
Creeping into minds
and Hurting Everyone
Regardless
Of who they are
And if the victim escapes....
Well....
They'd wish they were dead.
The actions of
my serial killer .

i am destruction in its own form.

i am a gas leak
you have never encountered before.

i don't tick like the bomb you're used to.

i have dangerous hands,
they've killed thousands of me.

i am a serial killer of self.

You can be anything you want to be; a clown, a lover, a serial killer, a tarot card reader, a musician who likes to eat pickles. You can be a prized fighter who falls in love with love itself. When you read you can be anything, and I do mean anything. But when you write.....you can see what's happening in front of you, you can be the night sky, in the twinkling eye of the child when she is being read your bedtime story. Put yourself in my place, when I am writing I close my eyes and the story that wants to come out is vividly clear in front of me. It's amazing what words can do when the right ones are put together: time stood still when you looked at me. I felt what you didn't say, I felt what you were gonna say. You smell so good, I can't wait for you to.....You know....It's all good, I know you feel it too, if this is just my imagination, I need to stop drinking so much coffee, the caffeine is starting to get to me.

There’s a killer in us all

It doesn’t render flesh and bone

It goes for something much deeper

It attacks the heart and soul

It confuses and damages the mind

It feasts on insecurities and doubts

It haunts the hallow corridors of the soul

It strikes out at where it hurts the most

It doesn’t stop until it draws blood

There’s a killer in us all

And its name is anger

© Seductive Poetry

Poison is a woman's weapon-
venomous like a snake.

It won't **** you
all at once
like the brute force of his hands.
Instead, it takes you slowly-
deteriorating your sense of self
making you wish for death.
Death that brings end to dying.

she has no moral qualms
when it comes to you and all your wrongs.
she only knows betrayal
and that's enough for her.

Did you hear what that old man was thinking?

Morphic resonance is the experimental name,
I think we are served by nodes on a net
not spread in the sight of any bird,

a chthonic net of stone,
girdling the globe in granite, crystalline granite,

take it for granted, these boulders are the witnesses,
the scars of catastrophe,
causing us to wonder
how came this to be? Think Yosemite, Ansel Adams POV

Think Matterhorn und Mt.Blanc,
Old Rockytop, and
Dos Cabezas and Long Valley Mountain, all that granite,
old as earth.

Listen.
Time is the idea we share at the moment,
Earth's is the life we share at the same time.

This is Spaceship Earth, looping Sol as Sol loops Sirius,
and there is no mothership,
no resupply.

This is the only earth, it has survived several civilized
monstrosities. As you know, some mortals can't
imagine not surviving with it, so
we words of earthbound muse,
let slip the bands of pride in time to see,
we are the music,
we make beauty behave as will believes, voluntarily,
it seems,
we choose beauty with little de
liberation, no need to
unlock ledgers and boxes of known safe knowns,

we imagine ourselves
defying the
de-ified con instituted authorities warning,
given us, they swear by the very vicars of the oil:
We warn you…

hell's the price, they swear, that we,
the people, pay for heresy,
dare not think those-
no, no, nor hear and see, or never imagine thinking
a selfish thought,
one you find curiously comforting, for you, your idea,
but
stop…
one heresy breeds another,
soon we shall have a collective
of individual minds agreeing at once,

as all see a particular arranging of colors, in a sunset's
single effortless existence as a thing
with mortal mindable beauty,

did you belive the sunset, or may you, if you wish?

__ unravel, and re ravel to save the thread,
it has lead through the maze before,
I have a witness who tests ifies.

Great unquarried granite, but that forms another story
upon precepts as yet

unglued, un-coagulated, ah, curdled, precepts cultural
curdle and clump together.
Biomes are adjusting the rethinking of pathos,
ethos shall follow,
as night follows day, just wait.

Patience is formed from memes more than experience,
you bet the old man was not lying.

Slow and steady, wins the grace. Take it easy. Fade away…

they came to check on me
room 222
I had tried to enter room 555 earlier
and the guest reported me to the front desk
who had, in turn called the Sheriff's office
the guest stated that she normally wouldn't have called
but I had such a menacing look that it frightened her
almost a look of...evil
it was 3:33am and the hotel was quiet
they knocked but got no answer
they had the front desk call the room
still no answer
they finally got a pass-key from security
and entered the room to find me passed out on the couch
they checked for a pulse
laughed it off and left me to my dreams
all of this save a vague recollection of being at the bar had left me

and what a dream
I was back in the bar
in the midst of a heated argument over religion, God, evil...
it was close to turning violent when a few cops arrived
they arrested me for drunk and disorderly
but let the other guy slide
I hollered and screamed on the way to the station
even threatened their lives
they just laughed...an evil laugh

I passed out before reaching the station
and in the dream I woke up in my cell
and then immediately and in actuality, awoke in my room
it was 5:55am and I wanted to hit the road by 6am
to get a jump on traffic
I got a quick shower, packed and was at the desk in 20 minutes

The desk agent, after wishing me a safe trip
began to apologize for the incident the previous night
and said it happens all the time
I asked what incident she was referring to
she said 'well, going to the wrong room by mistake'
I advised her she must have me confused with another guest
'oh no' she said...'I'm quite sure...room 222, correct?'
yes...but
'and so unfortunate for the 2 officers who took you to your room
and came back when you were found wandering in the halls trying to get into other guestrooms. Well, just a short time later on their very next call they arrested someone else who grabbed one of their guns and shot both of them. Isn't that awful. I forgot to mention...we dropped the charge for the drink you had just ordered before the officers arrived in the bar...so you have a credit of 6.66 on your card. Come see us again Mr Gates.'
That's Bates...