A Murderous Fun

A Murderous Fun

Weapons, poison, pills, bins.
I laugh out loud at all my sins.
You want to fight, you want to run.
I am delighted; my fun has begun.
You try to fight, you try to beg.
I stab the cold blade into your leg.
As you are cut, you scream and cry.
Poor little girl; you are destined to die.
I cut and stab; fun all around!
You choke up blood, and I love the sound.
Crimson liquid spills on the table.
I cheerfully smile, I know I'm not stable.
I inject you with poison and watch you squirm.
I picture your corpse being eaten by worms.
You call me sick, and I lean down to say,
“I am the huntress; you are my pray.”
You fight and struggle, all too aware.
I run my fingers through pretty blonde hair.
Blood streams down to cover your ear,
And I cut it off; my own souvenir!
You scream and yell, as you are dismembered.
But my darling victim, always remember,
As your soft flesh is torn from pale bone,
No one can change me; I'm set in stone.