Disturbed Illusions of Doctors Playing With Scissors

been, playing doctor 4 or 5 minutes flat. Before i cut my heart open, and let the air out.. 3 bags a pound of dust. The blood pours before me. in the strangest manners, patients groan,begin to plee they gasp their final death. 'what yoouu dodoing toomee!!...' they hate the treatment i made so i cut off their throats off.. and they didn't breath, and i laugh at their misfortune. lucky me if they only knew... how to give and take, i take their life off them, as they give me blood how loyal... moronic rose bud.. they were brought down, before they fell on stone. the blood tips of the sharp point, as i leave and take there bones. its a sad tone.. i then was captured, by the police brigade.. but i snipped them of their eyeballs. and put them in different jars.. they should think twice, before they put me in bars. otherwise they could see. im insane, to the bone. alone... alone... in a mental home... alone... alone... just a dream, as so it seems.. i will succeed again... digging through the wireless beams.. and splice off their heads three times i try before they fall down dead.. look, the door is open. now i can escape.. i write the story of my death, i made it through the gates.. with a gun, and some scissors.. I count the bullets gone and the blood is dripping on stone.. i smile, as a walk away.. only one can walk away.. i rewrite the chapter, when im let loose.. again.. kill ,eat, die , repeat.. kill ,eat, die , repeat.. ... ... Written November 13th, 2001 © on Nov 13 2001 06:13 AM PST   10 • 0 • 1