Ruan Breach

Ruan Breach Poems

The Best Poem Of Ruan Breach

Not A Crime, A Craft

The glint of the knife gleams in the pale moonlight,
Oh, so dangerous.
You carefully inser the instrument onto frail skin,
Memorized by constant red.
As you delicately inser the knife further,
You crave for the sign of ruby liquid
You want it,
You need it,
You’re addicted to it
Harder,
Faster,
You’re racing mind tells you.
Ignore the plea, the cry that the girl above whimpers too you.
And concentrate on the blood that is pouring out.
It’s almost like a river,
A scarlet river.
Made for you.
Carefully add pressure to the knife,
Watch as the prize that you crave flows gently towards you,
You ignore that the girl has gone limp,
Instead focus on the liquid that has made it to the sole of your shoe.
It’s yours now.
No one else's, only yours.
You put the knife away, where it belongs,
And kneel down to claim the red liquid.
It is so warm.
Very warm.
You stand up and walk out,
Leaving the addiction and body behind.
You are bored now,
You want another person to sculp.
You make them perfect,
Unique.
You close the door with a smile on your face.
You do whatever you want.
And so what if you take several lives?
It is not as if they were going anywhere anyway.
All you care for is the prize at the end,
The ever-flowing red liquid of life,
You love it.
It is yours, and yours alone.
Nothing will stop you from getting it.
Nothing

Because murder is not a crime.
It is a craft.

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