The Joke's On You

The Joke's On You

Sitting here, cold block cell,
tattered clothing, smirk
plastered across my face.
I know what I do. Always.
I enjoy killing--makes me
feel. Alive. Do you know the
feeling? I could show you if you'd
like. Could you really handle
it? Could you really handle
me? Do not underestimate.
For the smile on my face could
turn on you at any moment.
By my hands, alone, you could die.
And I always go by the old saying:
A Killing
a day
keeps the
Slaughter away.