Tortured Fixation

Corners look good when razor wire lie waiting for the soft touch innocent skin.
Thumb tacks are like hugs if your not awake to feel the sin.
Hiding in bushes, praying on your every move.
I collapse from your looks, reach down and cut the groove.
The ankles bleed, blood flows down the drain.
I feel alive when the wounds are open and it rains.
I'm standing in the open but you still can't see me, how time flies. On the window the breath is mine, your surrounded buy lies.
Your future is planned out, you body over my walls.
I write my name in your blood as the tear falls.
Such a waste, you could have been great.
Dinner smells good, the menu - razor wire, thumb tacks and you on my plate.
The rest of you is history, with your struggle on my arm you have bitten. Another victim lies ahead, the future is yet to be written.
My head aches, it hurts, it pounds. The voices grow louder, more convincing, theres new sounds.
I push my thumbs into my eyes to stop the pain.
It's the one thing that makes everything sane.
Something trying to get out, scratch marks inside my skull.
Its not going to escape, I crush my head every-things now dull.
Who turned off the lights am I in heaven.
Fiery red eyes gaze at me, giant horns and a goat head, my home is hell.