So Stain Them Red Poem by Gracey Newman

She sits gagged and bound. Her wounds stitched not to help her but to prolong the agony. Her guts spread across the floor like a canvas stained bloody

She no longer screams or weeps as she know what will happen.

Dear Diary,
My hands inching towards the razor blades, Ive been watching you whilst your sleeping. My eager eyes watch your imperfections and in my dreams I tear you apart. I rip out your guts....You have become perfect.

Ive waited long enough. I want my pure white hands to feel your guts. So stain them red. You''re going to wish, you''re going to beg. I''ll do my best to put a smile on your face.

I slowly caress your pale skin as I slide the blade deep within.
Taking out your heart; I carve sweet deaths kiss. I smile to myself tonight I become famous. Think of all the headlines.

Lock away your kids, We don''t want any one to roam the streets. And in my dreams the church burns red. They are going to wish, they are going to beg. I''ll dance within the ashes and I''ll scream to the funeral bell, I''ll look at the freshly dug graves, no rest for my victims
.
So my hands found glory, as they nest inside of you. Murder summons as I hear your very last breath. Dissecting every inch of your body; nothing left to see but a bloody portrait. Look at my master piece.