Blood Man
The eyes that are
Stained red with the blood
Of so many innocents.
These eyes I fear like I have never feared anything.
Blood under the fingernails
A jaunty, haughty smile
He is a snake, a demon
In the guise of a slender man.
One who looks innocent
But kills without hesitance.
I wash my hands
Of the Blood Man.
I can read inside this man's red eyes
The souls of those he has devoured.
A man who's genius has come undone
Unraveled like his blue scarf.
One look in the mirror
This man is not me.
I am not unstable, unwound, no
And yet…
Would my obsession with blood and death
And pallor
Be enough to call me insane?
Why do you accuse, bicker, argue?
How can I make you understand
In your stupid, idiotic brains,
That this man
Is not me?
Take this as you wish, but it is about something…click the next chapter if you care to know. If not, enjoy!