Intoxicated By Death

I am a horror book writer and this is my mind frame when I am the killer.
The fear in their eyes,
I want to see their pain,
The sight of torture motivates me,
The quiver in their voices,
I want to hear their terror,
The sound of bones splintering moves me,
The shame in their hearts,
I want to humiliate them further,
The smell of blood excites me,
The panic in their minds,
I want to imagine their dismay,
The thought of flesh ripping fascinates me,
I sharpen my knives,
Then go seek my next victims,
Am I taking lives?
No, I am giving them away.
What’s one more life?
There are plenty of others.
I feel no shame.
There is no time to feel it.
Life is short.
Might as well enjoy.
Am I disturbed?
No, I am intoxicated by death.

By Kymberly Roger
Published: 3/18/2008		 Your Contributions: Tell us a Poem! You don't have to be a Buzzle.com author to contribute to Poetry Bee. Submit a poem of your own right now!
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