Liking the Pain
This scratching, tearing apart,
is something I enjoy most,
when there are screams,
and the blood won’t stop,
There’s something about pain,
that I seem to like,
in the most maniacal way,
and it does not frighten me,
I am liking the pain,
there’s something about it,
about the way I forget everything else,
how everything seems to go away,
When my sight blacks out,
and I am alone,
it feels cold a damp,
the cold of death,
This pain,
seems to grow on me,
every time I feel it,
I am liking the pain.