Mine and His
When I was just
A little girl…
I asked my mother…
What would I be…
And did I realize, in my wildest dreams,
Of what I'd know, of what I'd see?
Will I be pretty…
Will I be rich…
Or will I be the killer,
That never did flinch?
With mine, their screams mingled,
With anticipation, my predatory senses tingled.
With a silent cry for control that's much too late,
I accepted my bloodthirsty fate.
Yes, I would suffer,
All the while my morals weaker, my willpower tougher,
And it is for you, that I do this.
For Jake, victory would be mine and his.
Whatever will be, will be…
The future's not us, to see…
What will be, will be…
