If God give me a chance to kill somebody
I would not call the death, but I would love to call the pain
And I would not let anyone hand me a gun, I prefer knife
Because I am not waiting for the ending
But I would make an art of killing
Slice by slice with the knife

I am not spreading beautiful words in a good song
But I am writing a poem with blood as the ink
On the body of the victim before I decided to skin

I need a music before I heard the crying, and screaming
Or I just will sing when I begin to skin
I like that when the knife going deep into their skin
Seeing the bloods out and coloring their cheeks
“Red as blood,” like the movie said

I like the knife, but I can make fire
And I want their eyes on fire
Burning the cornea, and set the iris up to burn
Makes the tears smells like gasoline
Make the bloods burn, and turn black
As black as a charcoal

I would not take a short way to kill
Because it is more than a desire to drink somebody’s blood
It is more than a show to set somebody’s soul
This is an art
And it is meant to be in a gallery

Like the great Da Vinci, paint with love
And I kill like the way I am in love
After I skin, I will burn
Make it bright into the flame
Set it right into my game

Then I begin to cut
Inch by inch, and throw it away to my dog
Crack the bones and sculpt it, make it great like The David

And the last touch
This is my favorite part
The heart!
The flesh which have beats
“What should I do?”

I know exactly what should I do
Stab it, over and over while I can still feel the beat
Fill my hands with the blood
Throw the half piece to the hell
And keep the other half inside

This is my art



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Hi, I'm me. Who am I? Read me. :P

2 thoughts on “Skin”

    1. ๐Ÿ‘ฟ๐Ÿ‘น๐Ÿ‘น๐Ÿ‘น๐Ÿ‘น๐Ÿ‘น๐Ÿ‘น๐Ÿ‘น๐Ÿ‘น๐Ÿ‘น๐Ÿ‘น๐Ÿ‘น๐Ÿ‘น๐Ÿ‘น๐Ÿ‘น๐Ÿ‘น๐Ÿ‘น๐Ÿ‘น๐Ÿ‘น๐Ÿ‘น๐Ÿ‘น๐Ÿ‘น๐Ÿ‘น

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