I saw of all your friends, ex-girlfriends and family members
with their faces painted in blood.
thick red blood that would make any one pass out.
Thick red blood that you somehow love more than yourself

The wolves around your room
have growling faces,
Their furs splattered with blood.
Posters of road kill hang above your bed.
You deny this but I know that you think of me as your next victim.

Dark cabaret music is your life.
That and heavy metal
But I can’t tell which you love the most because
you never tell me anything anymore.
You blame the my curiosity
while I blame you quiet stubborn acquisition

You burned down your house with
fire when you were 16.
Claimed it didn’t belong in the world anymore.
The fire killed your family.
Burned them alive without any reason.
I wished you would
see what the hell you are doing.

You made sure that nothing grew
Nothing happy and friendly that is.
I saw you crush the poor innocent flowers
saying that they drive you
mad when they done nothing
to you.

In your bed underneath the stairs
you sleep with headless dolls.
The arms cut off and red paint
in between the legs.
You told me it made you feel happy
to see blood running a girl’s legs.
Every time you sleep you dream of
burning people’s face s off and
running wildly through the streets.
You told me your secrets and what you want to do
with the world.
You told me you wanted to be a serial killer
when you grow up.
But you felt that there wasn’t enough
to scare the living shit out of people.

I thought it was because no one gave you a chance