Really Odd Treasure
Words swirl through my mind
forming lines
even stanzas,
but most are lost,
being slammed
against the walls in my brain
shattering them.
Only one word
has escaped this destiny
sitting heavily
in the center...
Rot
to become rotten,
to decay,
to spoil,
decompose,
the tastiest word
in my repituar.
The thing about rot
....that's so nice
is one touch
and it spreads,
living or dead.
all is affected,
the only thing to stop it
is to cut it out.
So I let myself
out of my cage again
ready to use my touch
to help society
spreading,
infecting
caressing,
leaving my mark
on the world.
Now it's time to pay back
what it's given to me,
stop wearing the key around my neck,
and use it,
time to stir the cattle,
enough with
ordering a dinner
and staring at it all night,
find the weak,
the tame,
the unmarked
and go for the throat,
feel the blood
run down my own neck,
the gore
building up, covering my eyes,
burning,
yearning,
enjoying,
calming me,
making it easier
to deal with these things
called people,
the herd,
the curr,
the meal ticket.
Licking my lips
loving the chunks
sliding down my face,
I move to the next,
the next,
the next,
love it,
I won't leave it.
My maiden,
bloody,
quivering
lays on the ground,
slowly,
seditiously
I circle
smacking my lips,
savoring,
holding back 'til...
I go for the lower back
tearing into spine
then
I walk away
let her rot,
let her fester,
wait for it,
enjoyment building
as my disease infects
turning the skin to worthless goo.
Watch it slough off
slowly,
caressingly,
turning to gray,
the most lovely color.
And as I watch
from within an inch
of her face,
I enjoy the pain
streaking it
like a stain in the road
marking
what I'm taking.
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