I have had thoughts of killing people, lots of people, many people, I have killed within my mind. Burning up, hurting more, hatred deep inside. Visions of knives and blood, I know deep inside that I could. Graphic details of plunging into another person�s chest and ripping out their heart, enough to pull my mind right apart. Violence settling in to what I have become, insane feelings that murder could be fun. Revenge, I guess for the world�s hatred for me, murder sprees are in my destiny. Blood running down my face, as I remove organs from every space. Slicing veins, causing pain, clutching my head, staring eye to eye with the dead. This is what I have done, this is what I have become. I feel fucked up, insane, like I have a disease of the brain. Hatred, pain and war, what the future has in store. And if I do commit this crime, will I commit again, time after time. My prediction, murderous addiction.
Poetic Penguin - 02.10.00 (02:28)