What Sadistic Irony

Who would of thought that they'd pin this one on me
The one time I didn't pluck, crush, and butcher a lovely blossom

Sure, I met her on a website for twisted poets
Made her one of my favorites, followed her work, added her poems to my reading list

Even wrote a poem about her, truly inspired
But this time it was pure, it was innocent

I couldn't kill her, out of artistic respect
For the world is so much more beautiful with her in it

I even have an alibi, she's believable
Ripe and pure at a mere fifteen

I spent the night with her, carving her up
Indulging in her need for cutting, self mutilation

Too bad she can't talk, I cut out her tongue
Right before I encased her in duct tape and struggling in plastic and buried her in some farmer's field

Yes, I confess I am a monster
But not that monster, that slaughter

I told my lawyer I would confess
Tell where the other bodies are buried

If only they would expunge me of this crime
Right this injustice, clear my name

I'm sure you don't get it, like you don't get me
But call it a matter of professional pride, my distorted honor

For the first time in my life I am innocent
And no one will ever, ever believe me

This will be my dying thought, final torture
As the lethality courses thru my veins

At least I will be welcomed a triumphing hero
When at long last Satan brings me home