The Hunger Games

Come into my little shop of horror  
Tonight, your skin will be my feast of gory  
My blade, my satin blindfold, my silver-pointed ice pick  
Painful lashes to the body shall endure with each stabbing inflict  
The moon is full, my fangs slowly descend  

Follow my seductive scent, weakening your member for your bones to grind, not stopping, until my ax says when  
Prowling the earth for a handsome being who understands my hunger to bath in his warm blood  
An obsessive compulsion, an ancient curse of my bloodline with no exchange of love  
Yes… lay down… mmm… yes right there  
Pushing him back on the bed, nails imbedded in his spine, bleeding from the tear  
 
Hum... where shall I start  
I will make sure I jar that… ahh… hard part  
Sharping the blade of my machete... my naughty work of art  
I love to hear a man’s scream, shh… no one can hear you in the throne of dark  
Don’t worry it will be painless when I rip out and eat your pulsating heart  
 
My manchette … lifting it above my head  
A deer caught in the headlight  from the passion my spell has led
Bringing it down, his body divided as a pair, now lifeless on my bed  
Opps … there goes that useful body part  
Dangling it, then swallowing it, a meal a la cart  
Shifting through the remains if his manly meat  
 
Tasting his blood, flesh bits streaming down my chin, droplets escaping onto my sheets  
The doorbell… interrupted, my sacrifice unto the howls of hell  
Mm… a female postmaster  
Licking my lips what a day for a twin bloody disaster