Little Mental Doll

We must fight this endless battle,
it which I know I'll never win...
In violence I cut myself deeper,
with blood escaping down my chin...

In the mental institution,
with a heart that beats so slow,
watching out my window,
within the wind my blood must blow.

You see,
in very late October,
I crept unto their room,
I killed thy mother and thy father,
like a deadly rose in bloom.

A prick like deadly thorns,
they gasped and died in minutes,
like the smoke off a cigarette,
I felt but not a pain of regret.

They took me here,
unto this prison,
but I hide thy fathers gun.
I killed my room mate and her brother,
with tasks still left undone.

The nurses pass me pills,
such a sweet release,
I hide thy victims bodies,
eating their flesh piece by piece.

They find my little journal,
with eyes cut out of friends,
Tape by tape,
I taped them,
such betray,
eye sockets will never mend.

Little do they know about the gun under my bed,
If the doctors try to take it,
they'll be blown to little spots of red.

I'm so confused,
yet thirsty for a drink,
a doctor down the hall,
I'll feast on this little shrink.

Music to my ears,
the cutting of a knife,
shredded pieces of skin,
taking someones life.

Sitting in a straight jacket,
with spinning little thoughts,
knowing I cannot stay,
on stained little cots.

A doctor tells me one thing,
yet another lie,
I'll take this gun and sit down,
with tears in my eyes.

Crazy little clown of mine,
in my crazy head,
what do you imply?
Do you think it's right for me to tell my walls good-bye?

This clock is getting slower,
the room such a dark,
looking toward my arms of mine,
my blade makes such a mark.

What should I tell the children,
of the future and of past,
should I tell them to drink such blood,
in this broken bitty glass?

What can I write to God,
to tell him how I feel,
how do I tell him in my body,
human pieces I conceal?

Vast crimson eyes,
with such a bleak broken color,
I can't deny my lips a taste,
of plastic skin,
I can't ignore.

Dripping from my eyes,
such a liquid I can't explain,
my eyes are shutting slowly,
in deep remorse and pain.

One last pill I take,
before stretching out my paws,
taking the gun from hidden space,
and scratching my face with cat like claws.

But then the whistle,
of the gun in my ears.

Yes, I shoot myself instead,
finally I fall to the floor,
and my eyes roll to the back of my head...