You go snake
Spit your ***** venom
All over the room
Staged performance
With puppets
You aren’t yet tired
Playing
So much effort to destroy
The ground I send on
Seeking my exposed vulnerabilities
With your cold eyes
Sore for misery
Forgive me snake
I have a yawn and a laugh
To give but not to share
My face perfectly relaxed
As I imagine
Your anihilation.

For every petal that falls,
She loses a piece of her soul.
But she continues to smile,
Even though she'll never be whole.

He'll pick away at her flower,
As she avoids the abyss.
But she'll risk it all,
Just for a kiss.

Her heart is now bare,
No longer protected.
But he leaves her in tears,
Just as she suspected.

it's that stupid small smile you give
when i am in pain
that makes me want to rip off your face

Together, let's paint our future in blood,
And intertwine our veins.

Why are you turning back?
I have you now; I'm not letting you go away.

Feel my knife etching my initials in your skin
And gaze at the marks from my bites.

A perfect doll for my collection,
You are forever mine.

I'm not one to associate with jealousy,
I just decapitate anyone who glimpses your way.

Now, now; no need to worry,
There's nothing physically wrong with my brain.

It's just that your tormented shrills just turn me on,
That I'm addicted to indulging in your soul.

The way your eyes represent an abyss of fear,
Your skin loses warmth and turns frigid cold;

And the flow of crimson rivers cascading down your flesh
When the pain is more than you can endure,

Makes me want to keep you in my chamber,
With your limbs chained to the floor.

it's a melancholy sadness and it grips hold of my joints with steel chains and i am bolted
bound to internal torment like a sadist playing sadist tricks oh i am bemused
wrap me in cotton wool and sing to me
nursery rhymes or tragic blackened symphonies
melancholy melodies / mad and misused
play the piano on my ribcage and sing your sadist tunes
this little rib went crack crack crack
everything in the room faded to black, black, black
what a bitter hymn oh and there is nothing holy about this
beetroot is red because you beat the root of me dead so tell me
where is your god?
i think i set him on fire with the acid in my chest
my blood is scathing / possessed
i drew a cross on his forehead with what i had left
monsters are manufactured; a product, you see
a deformed social escapee
non-conformist unmoral idiosyncrasies

laboratory rats

setting the world on fire with gasoline and dynamite
study the ill mind of a structureless parasite
understand that monsters are manufactured,
and they were once
just like you

Rules, regulation and form, allows for the greatest accord.
A ruse, my elation, at the shore with the bravest of swords.
Let me explain, poetry should be like a storm, a war of the words.
But Treat every one like a worm: your encouraging your curse.
You can't move forward without inertia at your back.
It's just the set of rules that allow Us to teach that.
So yes, the form and regulations enable the greatest of sets.
But unless you use them you will just be a sadist at best.

You're late for your funeral
Good cause I don't want you to be just a numeral
another number on a statistic
Time is a killer and it's sadistic
Let's be realistic
although you have wisdom
of sages
I don't want time to take you although it rages
You mean to me the world and more
I am sure you will not need to go through heavens door
Right now for sure
Hold on a little longer
Linger in this life
For our separation would cause me much strife
Don't let time take you into its void
Where I cannot follow.