I’ve done crime, I’ve done pain
but all of my victims suffer the same shame
I can’t wipe the sweat from my face
I’m too far into my work to think.
Twisting, breaking, ripping apart flesh
this girl was a piece of cake
a sweet tasty sugary mess.
I lick my fingers clean
I can’t seem to wash the bloodstains off of my pants and sleeves.
I go about my night,
looking in yearbooks for other victims who are ripe
I’ll see them in Hell, for I do God’s work
Take me Father
I’ve been cursed.