*this poem is not finched yet*
Chreey blood stains on the floor...

I stand there in the silence of my hiding place
Staring at the stranger in the mirror...

Life so colorful
But turns to gray...

There is nothing I hate more
Then a living human bean...

Sounds of screaming
In a dark room...

Creeping chill up my spine
sharp pain in my vains...

She is home alone
She takes off her cloths...

You opened your eyes
And there I was...