I am feeling bored. Have a creepy not-poem thing. Warning: it sucks and can be seriously disturbing. Do not read if easily triggered. Murder elevated to an art form A monster with a moral code (I write mine in your blood, Because you're useless) What shall we fake now? Flip the switch, change modes. I find it tiring to despise you And yet you seem to love it so How long must we keep up These games, these accusations When ending you Would satisfy me more? You're dying in the shifting shadows Of my design, my everything, just me. Don't cry for help, this is between us I wonder how much more you could be (Or I could make you be, through subtle brute force maybe?) An insignificant caricature of life You haunt me even after you are gone A fleeting thought - maybe I should have kept you A broken pet to chain beside my throne (Of skulls and bones - the throne of thrones) Your silence is beautiful and cold And you shall speak no longer, tell no lies So final and emotionless at last The knife slit more than flesh, it slit disguise. (Bye bye) Oh baby, you're no fun no more I wonder What happens to toys that outlive their use? I'd tell you, but why bother, you can't hear me It doesn't matter. You are now refuse. When my eyes close, the darkness Brings back the fragments of the past A touch, my hand curled Around your neck A game to see how long you'd last And I remember other things You used to look so innocent asleep I hated that, you know. I hate it still. Where was your innocence (when my blade sunk deep?) And when I told you that I loved you You silly little thing, took it to heart I said you had my heart (I didn't have one) And gleefully proceeded to tear you apart (Not literally, no, not yet, but still) (There. /Hides face/)