WorryRock.

She thinks I am going to call her on her lies, because I am a compulsive bitch, an erotica waiting to happen. When the blood rushes from your wrist, oh what the hell have I created, to drain her in her deepest fear, me, myself and I, waiting to strike in the most vulnerable time in your life. Wishing, only wishing, that your life would end to stop the pain that I am envoking. Why don't you cry, bitch? Why don't you run? There is no escaping in this hell you now call home. I am your master and now I am your hell personified in tight black jeans and a HIM shirt. So run bitch, run, you're never getting away from me, not even in your deepest dreams. I'll be around the corner, while you're sleeping and weeping. I'll be waiting hungry and laughing that your paranoia is getting the best of you.So why don't you see my eyes as I attack. Their honey brown glimmer turning into a startling black. So why don't you run, bitch, why don't you hide? Is it too much for you to bear? Is it a need or a desire to see me standing in front of you, whispering your name as if you were my lover, only to strike you dead, while I cover your frail body with mine. Your life has ended, darling, your life is over, darling. Oh how I loved you so.