The truth is, I’d kill every fucking last one of you.

The truth is, I’d kill every fucking last one of you. I’d line you up, one by one. The tallest at the left to the shortest at the right. Then I’d just go down the line. Slitting throats and gouging eyes. Stabbing chests and denting skulls. God fucking help you if you look at me or cry.

And when I get to you? Well I want to see you suffer. I want to put a screwdriver in your throat, real hard and real deep. I want to see your eyes twitch and your hands spasm as you try to pull it out. I want to see your brain try to comprehend the pain. I want to see your soul give up and die. I want to hurt you and end your life. I want to fucking kill you.

And so on and so on. On down the line.

(authors note: I never said that these would all be nice or pretty. I also don’t know what’s going to come out until I actually start hitting the keys. I’ll try to make the next one a little less harsh)

~ by thethingswethink on November 13, 2006.