It hurts;

Oh yes,

It hurts;

It will bring out rage;


In your own demise;

It will make you hate,

Especially your date;

He became my bait;

No more a date;

He is now dead;

I chopped off his head;

I had to;


I fed,



I love the red;

Can you smell it?

The extravagant scent of blood?

The car is now,

In flood;

I could only,

Love him for an hour;

Now I have,

Regained power;

I hate this;

It hurts;

It burns;

I am diseased;

Somebody feed me,


Come at will,

And I will not kill;

Ask my ex;

He screamed in pain,

As I ripped out,

A vein;


Won’t you take my hand,

In romance?


©Dawn Piercy-1994




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