No motive... just a desire

The adrenalin pumps
As I tear your flesh
Your blood spills out
Still warm and fresh

Getting high
On that sweet metallic scent
Intoxicating my mind
So twisted and bent

I have no motive
I just have a desire
O sweet innocent soul
Won't you feed my fire

Fantasies play in my mind
The perfect vision.
Making my fantasies real
I make the incision

My hand enters your body
Through the hole that I tore
So impatiently ripping
It more and more

Grasp your heart
Within my grip,
Your blood is so silky
My hand almost slips.

It struggles to pump
Against my palm
Such a satisfying sensation
I cannot stay calm

It's time is up
It gives on last heroic 'pump'
Now all it is,
Is a lifeless lump.

I give a little tug
And then hear a 'rip'
Splashing little red speckles
Upon my lips

I lick my lips savagely
Taking in the taste
So warm and sweet
Not letting a single drop go to waste.

All rights reserved, © Laurène Ferguson 2006