What am I?

What Am I?

What exactly am I?

What is pain?

The blood splatters on my victims.

But I feel nothing.

Am I just for their thrill?

Perhaps this is why I kill.

To be acknowledged.

Lonely are my nights. When I stay awake.

Lonely am I. In so many wretched ways.

Even in day.

Am I meant to be hurting?

Like how I am now?

This pain hurts so much... It hurts right here, though it does not bleed.

In my heart.

Here.

Let me show you how much I hurt.

By hurting you...