Your Death

 
It's going to be the loudest scream
you ever heard
or one puny last whimper
I haven’t decided yet
but your life is my toy
and your ass is not worth the
skin over its bones.
That’s one piss fragile soul of yours
I’m holding here in my hand
and I’m having a bad day
of the worst kind.
 
I’m not interested in your
loose change, your plastic
or your cell phone
I like to cause pain
that's my greatest pleasure
and because you were foolish enough
to stray in my direction
I am going to crush the last
drops of your life away
and spread you
all over this alleyway.
I think I'll begin with my
smallest knife
lots of little rips
all over your face
I like to see the blood trickle down to
where I'm going to put my hands
I like to smell the fear
you see it's like being a designer
for death
it's a kind of mission statement
I get this burning feeling
it's really strong
and then everything turns red
you know the colour I mean
that deep warm spurty red
 
yes, that's right
that's the colour.