This world is a nightmare
for my emotions.
When you feed on energy
but only taste negativity.
Your brain goes wild and
your eyes show the insanity
reaching it's highest point.
Your screaming mind
seeks out your victim.
That little girl,
plenty would miss.
Suffocating under my hand
as we run through the alleys,
I feel the tiny body squirm
placing a delighted smile on my face.
Abandon mental hospitals,
oh so cliche but
it's all I have.
I'll make up for it with twisted creativity.
Strap her down on the table,
see the tears in her eyes.
Laughing, lets get on.
The closer I get the stronger
that craving for power becomes.
Feeling her body and tickling her face,
I use stones to crush
her tiny limbs.
Inside the skin you can
feel the shattered pieces.
Scalpel to the head,
I peel back the skin
and drill aimlessly at her skull,
I carve my name in the bone,
her screaming makes my dagger want to play.
I slash at her stomach not
aiming to kill but aiming for the
gallons of blood.
I catch it in a glass
and take a drink.
Refreshed to get back to work.
Feeling renewed I take drill bits
and shove them in her eyes.
The screaming,
now obnoxious just sends the next knife
down her little throat.
Now i'm ready to kill.
I look at her blood covered face,
lick it clean then kiss her goodbye.
With a little force I watch her head roll to the ground.
My name still carved on the inside.
A contest entry
- Twisted... by dragonfly89.
550 points, ended November 7, 27 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
1 - 5 of 5
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im scared
it seems you have an issue with the the little girl thats left inside. your inner child pisses you off and i can relate but dont hate her accept her for what she is maybe one day u and i will make peace with ourselves but until then we torcher that squirming little bitch inside but like i said we can still live with them
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I'm shocked.... You are the first person to get the EXACT meaning out of one of my poems. No one, has ever even come close to relating my poems to me so perfectly. Especially someone who barely knows me. Just... i'm almost speechless. That little girl does anger me. Greatly. For several reasons. Mainly because she can rear her ugly naive and innocent head at my most vounrable moments and I become even weaker than I already seam. I just cant seam to make peace with her. I feel like I have split personalities. Heh. I hope your right and that we can still live with them. Because eventually, I would love to.
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trust me
hollis soon we all learn to live with those inside us and things will get better besides your not weak if you can admit to how u truly feel. heh i am that kid inside sometimes and that makes me stronger because sometimes the kids are the ones that show us the way through life -
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Ah, you see. Admitting how I feel is what I do best. And that is why I dont beleive it makes me strong. Because I can go on and whine and bitch about my life and problems anyday. It takes alot of strength for me to hide how I feel and to stay possitive. My iner child is the one who makes me so dependant and inable to handle things on my own. Forcing me to throw my problems on other people. One other person inparticular, but still. So I beleive that my ability to admit and express how I feel, is what makes me seam weak. If she is what can show me through life, i'm having trouble reading her signs.
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Commendable...
this is quite a lovely read, I love the torture methods, creative and painful to be sure. You captured the passion of what it is to be a sadistic killer. One who thrives on the pain and the gore.
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