THE WARMTH WITHIN MY HEART

Cold eyes

Bold face.

A serial killer

Being birthed within

The other personality.

A war of duality

Raging in my mind.

Meditating on the sequence

Of the sickening silence

Of a blunt blade slicing raw flesh.

With the deep red blood

Oozing like slow dancers

The euphoric sensation gotten

From the screams of the victim

Is the only natural high

That affords me undiluted ecstasy.

Murder has become my drug.

A thought that starts to overshadow

My light with darkness

Then my conscience drips the essence

Of innocence

Into my heart

Forming the warmth

That begins to thaw

My frozen thoughts

Of menace

Preserved for that deathly day.

I then smell my thoughts

The stench fills the lungs

Of my memory.

Reminding me

That,

This is not me

No...

I am not evil

I am not evil

Then...I pass out...

[How influential is your conscience?]