Thoughts of suicide
Thoughts of ******
Has crossed my mind
I want to be loved for me
But also I want to be hated
By those that hurt me

Am I twisted?

This cold steel
Cuts deep across my skin
As the pain drowns the memories
Oh the thought of killing you
Is sweet

Am I twisted?

Do you know
What I dream
When I sleep
Let me tell you
I dream of death
Not mine like I should
But yours
Slow
Painful
Warm blood flowing
From wounds inflicted
As I carve your heart out

Am I twisted?

Scream at me
It drives my thirst
To cause you more pain
Your body would be lifeless
But I would have
Your blood curtling scream
Ringing in my ears

Am I twisted?

So before saying anything
During your life
Think on what I want to do
To you
Lets see if you decide
If I am really and horribly
Twisted.

This...
This is my temple...
This vessel...
This vessel that I wrestle with...
This sanctuary of dreams...
This vehicle of persistent reality...
What do I see?
Who is there reflecting me?
Could I reach inside the glass sands of time and grab my reflection... the one serving its purpose, dangling like a carrot of love...
But only on the surface...
DO I see?
Or am I blinded by time...
Not only blinded, but created!
Made to be manifest!
Drawn into a new world, where the past and future rule the slave class, where the only real moments scream out of blood curtling desperation from the awful beast inside my brain...
that beast which is me, shackled with things and desires, chained up by pleasure and lust and administering drugs that keep my soul in hospice...
I must awaken my reflection...
I must shatter my perception...
I must create myself!
For I am the god of this temple...
This vessel...
Created for me...