Time Flies...

Waiting is the greatest pain,
Though most of me remains slain;
Legs propped up on iron heaters,
In my mouth spins an egg beater-

Roughly, duct tape holds it there,
Wrapped around my crimson hair-
Holding in the spinning end,
Tearing so no one could mend.

Will my torturer return?
I cry to think of all I've learned.
Even through the scars he burns,
He says there's more for me to earn.

Waiting, gurgling, and praying,
Burning, yearning, burnt legs splaying,
I can't conceive what could come after,
I resort to insane laughter.

Though I choke on blood and teeth,
Through the smell of my burnt meat,
I laugh harder, my mind flees
Closer toward insanity.

The deadbolt slides, I hear the door:
Creaking, scratching on the floor,
He walks through, I smell him now,
Expensive cologne flows down.

He leans in, I feel his breath,
Then his hands upon my chest,
He whispers one last sick goodbye,
"You won't be the last to die."