Killer is me

Killer is Me 

Just trying something different. From the perspective of a killer. 

How it feels strange to be a wanted man 

After all the years of being abandoned 

All I had to do was take a life 

To become a crazed killer 

How do I continue this regime of feeling so great? 

Do I take another?

Or shall I confess all to the detective who does not really care?

To be probed beyond despair, to have my ills disrespected. 

His despondant approach will only offend me 

So another it will be

Until they take me seriously 

Or shoot me dead 

I have no message 

I am not a martyr 

Nor am I a god 

I feel no mercy 

I am not empathtic to your frail screams 

The knife drips blood as eloquently as dreams 

I like this 

Maybe I will write some poetic shit in the walls 

To make them ponder who killed this person after all? 

In this future I feel immortal 

Everything I touch feels bad 

Was I hugged too much or not enough? 

This is not sexual 

I am just sick of being alone and afraid 

I am just sick, it goes unnoticed 

A cast away 

My childhood reconciles with my twisted dreams 

To lead to one ending 

I am as dirty as you

We can all become killers 

It just depends on the laundry 

and the detergent you use.