Do I need help?

Should I kill people?
The feeling must be nice, the euphoria before the regret.
Those times where your senses are heightened, it feels good.
The temptation of falling, before you knew it you’re already caught in the never breaking trap.
The fall before the earth soaks in your blood. The air resisting your weight. Even the earth couldn’t take the weight of your hatred.
Hatred, the feeling of hatred is so amazing. Prickly, it smells like the air after the rain.
I love it. I love it.

I might become a psychopath.
I doubt tho, but maybe a little tempting if you ask me.
I lack empathy but I seem to be brimming with it.
The desire to kill people, to end my demise and to satiate my desire.
It’s quite weird isn’t it.
I’m lying to myself.

I’m not lying to myself.
This is weird.
Something just switched inside of me.
I want to kill people.
I know i can’t kill myself.
If I can’t kill myself and end my suffering.
Why not end those who brought me to this hell?

It’s not that bad, yea?
I don’t think it is.
It’s not bad to kill people.
If someone were to kill me,
I wouldn’t hate it.
But if they caught me in a bad mood,
I might ask them why they would kill?

Did I do something wrong?
Please don’t kill me,
I still want to live. Please don’t.
Inside I would be laughing in excitement.
The excitement of pleading to someone for my life.

The excitement that fills my nerves with adrenaline,
 It’s all too good, I love it.
I love it when they confront me,
The fear they place on to me,
It’s so good. I love it.
It makes me want to lie more,
Makes me want to lie more and more, and cry
Tears brims my eyes with liquid,
I’d love for them to see me lose my mind,
For them to see me go crazy,
For them to see me kill someone and love it.