Cruel Suicide

He thirsts for you,
Lurking in your closet and behind your kitchen door.
He’s waiting,
Waiting for you.
Waiting to strike when you’re angry, depressed or hurt.
When you’re weak,
He wants to hold you down beneath him,
And he wants to hurt you.
When you fail to fall asleep at night,
Blame it on the stress and your insomniac worries.
But you know, don’t you?
He’s in there with you.
His disgusting, corpse-rotting breath suffocating your cheek and neck.
You feel his bones caressing the hairs on your arm,
And you can see his eyes above you, and his teeth glistening,
And anything else that isn’t really there.

But don’t deny too much
Because one night, he’s going to take you,
Store you away in his freezer that smells of maggots and rotten corpses,
So you stay fresh.
What are you going to blame it on then?
Your imagination?
All that ethanol from the night before?
You’re somewhere where no one can save you.
Although, nobody would give it a second thought.
He thirsts for your poisonous blood, your damaged heart.
But in truth, he’s saving you.
He’s protecting you from yourself.
Everyone’s fate ends the same way anyways.
It’s just a matter of how.