Mother,
I’m not the person you think I am.
I’ve never been.
I always faked that in plain sight
I wish you could have a look
At what I really was.
What I was becoming
Each passing day
I would laugh when you laughed
I would cry when you cried
I never wanted you to know
The urges that kept waking me up
In the middle of the night
Those warm urges
To kill, to slice, to slaughter
Little things, dark things
I would love, watching them die
Watching their soul leave their bodies
Their shrunk hearts stop beating
I used to have a sense of fulfillment
A sense of awe at the sight
Oh God!!! When I skinned them
It would be hell of a sight for me
There seamless skin, leaving their flesh
Like saying a long awaited “good-bye”
To the sins, to all the darkness inside
Just leaving a pale red thing behind
Possibly the penalty for being so sinful
Come to me for reason
Then I have none
Except that I am the one
Who could wash you off your dirt
I’m that chosen one
That vigilante
And yes!! I’m the one
With The Butcher Inside
