Sadistic Extrication of Soul

You don’t need a razor when you can write like this,
To run your mind onto paper to drain your soul to its demise.
To create such creepy catharsis is a morbid blessing in disguise,
For so many lack the ability to write what they think,
But these morbid laments are my sublime.

You don’t need a bullet with words you never miss,
You can write yourself away,
You can create writings which slowly drain you of your life,
And you can like it too,
The darkest emptiest thoughts are the ones I always choose.

You don’t need to kill,
With hate you can destroy all objects of feeling, it’s appealing,
To destroy what makes you hurt,
Just clean up the pools of blood when you’re done here.
It’s such a pleasure to torture what abated you,
It’s like being avenged sevenfold,
It never gets old.

You don’t need true love,
When you have little lost causes,
To caress, kiss, and care for,
You can cling to them, when your heartstrings come undone,
They know where you’re coming from.
You can relate to the emptiness of soul,
And the constant trembling and shivering you mutually endure.

You don’t need others, community is cursed,
Fellowship is futile,
And I’m all alone.
But I like it that way,
I have to say less tearful goodbyes,
And share fewer secrets.
I like to be secluded, in demented, creepy bliss,
I never notice when my soul is scarred
Demented is normal to me.