a murmur in decrepit wits

murmur - whisper to me

slithering fantasies of cleaning bones

lucid dreams

yearning to become real

the luscious slitting of throats

what fantasy?

these fictions so corporal so obtuse

restricting me

frustrating me

the fictions so morbid seem foretold

digging in the psyche

no theory

no medication

no session

can shed light upon the monster i am told to become

no theory

no medication

obsession

the smell of blood

the soothing of the pain mine

a medical condition? no

merely purpose

decrepit wits in a mind mine

these fictions so corporal so obtuse

restricting me

frustrating me

the fictions so morbid seem foretold

release the rage in me

set in motion the first kill

adrenaline

rushing me

the fictions so morbid fulfilled

release the real in me

swing the axe

hang the rope

the tales of my coming painted in a spree of gore

do say your prayers

they shall be answered

by the cutting of blades as your insides are drained

no longer murmurs - in thy decrepit wits

a spree of murder - unleash my insanity

meticulous plan

the fruition of years of mental disorder

a spree of terror

the canvas of decay

left behind for them to find

in perspicuity

murmurs - whisper to me

slithering fantasies of cleaning bones

lucid dreams

yearning to become real

the luscious slitting of throats

what fantasy?