PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

My actions have left me far from being pure,
For I carry a disease with no cure.
An addiction, rehab could never set me free,
Always a part of me no matter how far I flee.
I have allowed this disease to consume me to my core,
Once opened, you can never shut this door.
The longer I fight it the more the hunger grows,
I carry this weight as a secret, know one knows.
Try to explain I could but they would never comprehend,
I do this because I must, not because I wish to start a trend.
I need to hear their screams and watch them bleed,
I have a hunger which I must feed.
Seeing pure, untainted fear building in the eyes,
Giving me the power to control their lives.
In the final moments they cling so dearly to,
I am God, I have the power to take their lives and they know this to be true.
The constant sob soaked pleads give me an identity,
I am their savior, delivering them into eternal serenity.
The power trip is supreme but not the reason,
I am the storm, my motive is the season.
Watching the knife part the skin, seeing the pain,
It cleanses me like standing in the rain.
To see my work take form is my salvation,
The many cuts are my salutation.