SERIAL KILLER
- Aug 15
- 1 min read
By Dodie Green
He whispered to me “use me”
so, I did.
I split open his skin
peeled it off gently
set aside for later use.
I cut out his spine
(it might be useful, one never knows.)
I cracked him open,
revealing his fragile insides
they gleamed softly in the light,
he was tattooed with words
from beginning to end.
But I, destructive as I am,
tore him apart
trying to understand the mysteries
of his heart.
Though I rustled and leafed
through every page of him,
in the end I could not understand
the story he had meant
for me to know.
So, I left him in pieces
bones and sinews split asunder,
and all I took from him
was a single thin shred of paper,
a bookmark
for my next victim.