Are you intrigued by the blood that drips from my teeth?

More than that that is pumping in my veins..
This constant siren within me, pulsating my hands to do these things that I can not control. The tiniest part of me that says, do not jump yet. For there is much still left to do.

Jump only when the last person has heard the piercing of the knife that slides in and out of this heart. Blackened like a fish on a plate, with spices.
Some would say this pain is intricately woven through my soul so beautifully. And they would even say that they could yearn for the spirit that comes from within it.

But it is only because they have not experienced the fullness of its wrath.
For if you ever let this pain sit atop you, and embrace you with its love, it will violently claw you open and find orgasmic pleasure in the spewing of your blood. Once you let it in this position of control, you can not stop it. Give it any amount of control, and there is no going back.

You have no idea the amount of dead places this pain breeds from.
Your God cannot save you from the inequities you have so contributed. And maybe your victim will burn along side you. For the hate you started inside.
There so be, burn, burn, burn. If there is no relief herein, where shall there be any?
I would not let go of this pain now if it was all but handed to me. For it is tattooed into me like beautiful scars cut with the sharpest of knives. And you will not also take this from me.
It is mine, just as your lonely death will be your own. They will bury it with me just as a priest with his cross. And only then, will I breathe a breath of rest….