Sentimental Murderer

I want to rip his heart out and tear his arteries.
Block his longs and suffocate him.
Stab him and drain him like a citrus fruit.
Slit his wrists and let him bleed.
Collect his blood in vile jars.
I want to bathe in his blood and sew with his veins.
I want to skin him alive and hear his melodious cries of pain.

He is my enemy.
My antagonist.
The one that hurt me badly.
Yet, he is my lover.