Utopian Ending

Hands moving with such ease across yet another victim
It gets easier with time, and with practice
Every friday night becomes fright night
And no one is safe from this egotistical player
Every move is the same, Like I'm in some freak show
I'm addicted to the legs and the looks I get
To the chests and the scowls I deserve
To the heat, To the foggy windows, To the taste
So sweet like a ripe melon straight off the farm
I strip innocence with every swipe of the hand
Every pounding of the flesh jumpstarts my heart
To push me to deeper depths in this Utopia
Every slap comes straight from my core
Every choke comes straight from my roots
My roots of evil
My roots of lust
Is there a difference?
I pray for guidance on my way out the door
To find another victim of my pleasing horror