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I can’t express enough

The sickness that I bare

I crave the loss of life

I live without a care


It doesn’t matter much

Who my victims are

A stripper from a club

A loser at a bar


I like to kill them slowly

Taking pleasure in their pain

If I get caught they’ll tell me

I’m criminally insane


But they’ll never catch me

For I am much too smart

This isn’t mindless murder

For me, this is art.

Recommend0 Simily SnapsPublished in All Stories, Drama, Horror, Memoir, Mystery/Thriller, Opinion Piece, Personal Narrative, Poetry