What if I'm alone? (And I like it)

I lost control
again
and again
and again
I keep letting it get away
probably because
it feels so fucking good
letting my hands run free
and my fingers gouge
into the sockets they long for
until all that's left is the ringing sound of whimpers

I'm afraid
of the day my sighs will turn to euthanasia
the doorway that warps
under the weight of my guilt will cave
the kitchen floor won't even reassure my knees anymore

when I think of the day
when there's no one there to close the door

I'm afraid
that I might like beating corpses