My Wet Dream

My mind overrun with darkness
Filled with hatred unknown
A hatred fueled by anger
Anger drives my soul

I want to cause you pain
Ungodly agony
As I rip and tear your flesh
I Want to hear you scream

Won't you please take part
In this homicidal wet-dream?

Turn to face me
I'm not there
But as you look away
I will fabricate your fears

As you feel the razor-point
Pierce your virgin flesh
Your back is chilled then warm
As the viscous fluid flows

Falling to your knees

Pleading for benevolence
Begging the "Heavenly Father"
To provide salvation for thee

Turn to face me
I'm not there
But as you look away
I will fabricate your fears

Morning now I awaken
My skin remains unscathed
A blood-stained knife to be found
Resting in my pocket

Beneath my nails
The slightest hint
Dried blood of lives taken
Now the question

Was it him
Or is it me
Who lacerates the skin?


John and Eric 3/6/91

 

1997, John Kinne, All rights reserved