I must confess that I am a murderer...
I have killed more than I could ever imagine.
Like bullets to a magazine,
a part of you became my other victim,
buried it 6 feet below the ground that no light can penetrate not even the sun's brightest beam.
Foaming up like crashing waves,
my words became a weapon of destruction hidden deep down the caves,
That hammer nails through wooden skin
killing your dreams deep within.
I caged you and left you no escape in a coffin,
encasing a collection of words that hurt and sting.
Drowning your aspirations in the ocean of anguish,
that not even one sane person would wish.
Smashing esteem, with words that could destroy one's eagerness to even dare to dream,
That's how I killed them.
and to tell you...
Callouses don't form as easy as one may think.
I'm not saying that everyone's made of glass,
but not everyone's a soldier either,
So think about what you're gonna say
Before you say it,
Because a murderer doesn't always hide in the shell of a sociopath.
- // i r . c