I love you to much. I hate you not enough. It's not fair, you made me this way, and you forced me into this. You did absolutely nothing wrong, you're an angel amongst lustful demons. No, you're the demon, my temptation. Who the hell am I kidding, I'm no fucking saint. My one goal in life is to have you writhing and screaming underneath me. Whether that means I'm killing you or making love to you, I can't remember. If I was how I used to be, this wouldn't happen. I don't remember when this changed, did it ever change. Have I always been this way, conflicted between love and hate to the point of extremes? How many people have I killed now? How many of them had at least two of your features? Fifteen. That's the answer. I don't understand, no, I understand perfectly well. I'm a black sheep, a crooked tom. My sanity gone the day you left me. My greatest love, my raging hate.
Here's another apparent clone, his eyes so closely resembling yours. The fakes always lacking in something. Nothing but mere reminders of those piercing orbs. I'll kill you one day. Then you wont haunt me anymore. Those damn eyes, I want to tear them from your head. Study them closely and treasure them in a precious glass vial. Maybe then I'll know what it is that draws me to them. His hair longer, more tamed. Wonder if I tore it from his head, if he'd plead for forgiveness for a crime he didn't commit. They always try to apologize; maybe that's why I do it. To get the regret and apology I'll never get from you.
He smells sweet. I hate it. I should rip him apart for smelling sweet one of the things I love about you is your bitter earthy scent. Why the hell did you fucking leave? He's screaming now. I must have slammed his hands in my door. I've dreamed about doing that to you. At least I'll have practice. His damn fucking eyes are looking at me. Why don't you ever fucking look at me? Am I not good enough for you? Is it because I'm to damn tall? To fucking stupid? God knows I'm smarter then every other damn human alive. That's why he took it all away. He sent his angel to ruin me because I could have defied him. Well guess fucking what? I'll kill you anyway, why? Because I love you to much.
My fingers tear at his hair, the texture is all wrong. He's nothing like you, and fucking pisses me off even more. How the fuck does he think he has the right to look like you? I was right, he is pleading. Pleading and apologizing and moaning and screaming. I rip harder at his hair, pieces of skin pulling up with he hair. It's beautiful. But I know you'll look even better like this. He's trying to struggle out of my bonds, not even you could do that. I've perfected it, not even a rabid pit bull ripping and pulling at the straps would break them. He's crying, the tears and blood making interesting patterns across his skin. I think I'll try and recreate that in the office. After all you know I love home decor. You fucking hated you ass hole. Telling me I'm stupid, I should have killed you then, but your to fucking addicting.
Much better. The closest thing I get to your smell is the smell of blood. It feels so fucking good as it drips down my face. Maybe one day I'll let you hurt me one last time before I kill you. Why? Because I need to stop loving you. I need to fix one more thing. My thumbs tear into his eyes pressing deep into those damn orbs. The blood falling down his face, his screams echoing across my walls. I guess it's good my house is kind of hidden away. Who knows what the neighbors would say. I could always just kill them too. That might be fun. He looks much better now. Those damn eyes are gone. No need to keep them, their not yours, no matter the resemblance. Maybe when I finally get yours I'll wear them around my neck. That way they'll always be close to me. I'll never loose those damn things. I hate them. They're beautiful.
I think I'll hang him in the office. The living rooms getting kind of full anyway. I like to look over all of them again. My perfections of you. The parts of you that I need to destroy. I always save ripping the heart out for last, that is after all what you did to me. I wish you could see them suffer. I wonder if you would enjoy their blood curtailing screams as I hack away at their fingers. Oh, I remember this one. He was one of my favorites. He reminded me how you always seemed to have the perfect length finger nails. You and your damn odd fascination with your appearance. Yet you judged every fucking thing I did. I decided to fix that little quirk and ripped them all off one by one. I should have recorded it. It's always fun to have them smile for the camera. His screams were some of the best. To bad I didn't think to do that this time. I would have loved to here his begs as I slowly ripped him apart over and over again.
I remember my first one the best. I took my sweet fucking time with him. By the end, I swear he was almost enjoying it as much as I was. I strapped him down, fucked him so hard he nearly split in too. It was the first time I made someone bleed so much intentionally. He passed out of course, the fucking pansy. I decided while he was asleep I'd do him the pleasure of chopping of his dick. His was much smaller then yours. Not nearly worth the effort, but fun none the less. When he woke up those eyes were looking at me with such fear and regret in them I snapped. Well, I guess I had already snapped, but that's when I knew he would go out slowly. I took my thumbs and as slowly as I would allow my self I gouged out those damn eyes. Been doing that to every other one since then.
I've come to love blood. The color, the smell, even the taste. I think yours will be the best though. You are always the fucking best. And that's why I need to fucking kill you, just like you did me. I like to draw things in the blood. You always hated my art work. Why did you hate every fucking thing about me? Why did you stat as long as you did, letting me live in this damn fake reality. You don't love me, you never did. If anything you hated me, so I'm going to kill you my sweet angel. I'll make you wear my inverted cross, we will dance in a blood rain to the sounds of your screams. We'll make love and I'll steal your eyes and heart and you will never forget me. Long after your fucking heart stops beating and the last drop of your blood dries up, you'll still remember.
I hate you to little, I love you to much. I don't think I could ever do it. I would keep you hanging by a thread of life. I'd keep you all to myself, alive. I'd make sure you'd suffer just as I have suffered. Ten times worse then the sixteen people before you. I'd love you long after your screams died down, your voice so hoarse that it cant even make a sound. I'd hate you even as I ripped every last thread of hair out of your pretty little head. I'd love you even if you ripped me open and rip my heart out all over again. I'd hate you even if you'd apologize. I just want you fucking dead. Dead, just like me.