Categories > Original > Poetry0 Reviews
Talks about a give and take situation (more or less).
Blood is the only thing I want from your body,
Not money, not sex, not even you yourself.
Getting your blood on my hands is my only hobby,
And I don't care how it happens as long as I get it myself.
I want you on the brink of death,
Barely able to stand any moment,
Begging for it to come and snatch away your last breath
And I refuse to allow you the bliss of it.
You may think that I'm rash,
Evil for watching your anguish with glee.
But you're the one who let me do this, without batting an eyelash,
So don't you dare blame your own weakness on me.