Flashing lights surround my apartment

Wind forcefully nudging me, a crowd has began to form

I don't know if they are excited or actually trying to help

Where were they when I really needed their help

When I wrote my sister's blood on the wall after I cooked up her organs and served it to my mother

When I pulled my tongue for sure pleasure I enjoy

You never helped

You lockedme in a room with white walls so soft and fluffy

But as I choked that young British man with my handcuffs

I remember, I missed that pleasure

The pleasure of killing

Warm blood on my cold skin

So as I write this letter before my final act

I looked at the pigeons as it flew away

I want to be like that bird

I let the wind take me, the clouds looked so beautiful

I got closer and closer to the flashing lghts

Hearing people screaming madeit even more exciting

And then nothing


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