05-21-2013, 03:04 PM
The Play
The iron rich metallic sting still strong in my mouth,
the seemingly lifeless body sprawled across the couch.
Pulse quickening, vision still a blur,
franticly pacing back and forth with thoughts of what the neighbors may have heard.
As I calm myself I move slowly towards the body,
taking note of every bruise, every scratch, and every gash,
focusing in on her throat, I notice my firm grip had left the appearance of a rash.
This horrific sight made me ask myself “how could I do this monstrous act?”
Then I realize that in fact, this is just that, an act.
For an act is a part of a play, a play in which I am a part of.
And in this play, this disgustingly beautiful play.
I am the playwright, the star, and the critic,
But most importantly I am the audience, gazing down in complete awe of my performance.
For this disturbing little act I am required to play many roles.
So many roles in fact, that I often lose who I am, and find it hard to keep my sanity intact.
But one role is constant, never changing, and always the same,
the role of the victim, the beaten and restrained.
Peering down at the shivering body I notice a bit of blood
Removing it with my forefinger, I close my eyes, savor the moment and rub it on my tongue.
Again! That metallic sting erupting my senses.
Sending lightning down my spine, leaving me in paralysis, vulnerable, and defenseless.
As I regain my faculties I see the body begin to stir
So I grab a near by steak knife and plunge it into her
Twisting and turning the knife, I begin foaming at the mouth
Nothing has ever brought me such pleasure like watching this body lose its life, right here on my couch
In anticipation of the moment i close my eyes basking in thoughts of my sin.
Awaiting her last exhale, and eager to breath it in.
Excitement has overcome me, I really cannot wait.
Starring into her almost lifeless eyes I kneel down and whisper
"did you enjoy you're last first date?"
-alternate ending-
The Play
The iron rich metallic sting still strong in my mouth,
the seemingly lifeless body sprawled across the couch.
Pulse quickening, vision still a blur,
franticly pacing back and forth with thoughts of what the neighbors may have heard.
As I calm myself I move slowly towards the body,
taking note of every bruise, every scratch, and every gash,
focusing in on her throat, I notice my firm grip had left the appearance of a rash.
This horrific sight made me ask myself “how could I do this monstrous act?”
Then I realize that in fact, this is just that, an act.
For an act is a part of a play, a play in which I am a part of.
And in this play, this disgustingly beautiful play.
I am the playwright, the star, and the critic,
But most importantly I am the audience, gazing down in complete awe of my performance.
For this disturbing little act I am required to play many roles.
So many roles in fact, that I often lose who I am, and find it hard to keep my sanity intact.
But one role is constant, never changing, and always the same,
the role of the victim, the beaten and restrained.
Peering down at the shivering body I notice a bit of blood
Removing it with my forefinger, I close my eyes, savor the moment and rub it on my tongue.
Again! That metallic sting erupting my senses.
Sending lighting down my spine, leaving me in paralysis, vulnerable, and defenseless.
As I regain my faculties a sense of remorse sets in.
So I unbind the woman, turn and walk away.
Just then I hear a fait voice from behind me say.
“baby I love you, you know just how to treat me.”
I just shake my head and continue walking.
Then stop, smile, turn and say,
“girl I love you, but bitch you CRAY!”
By: Ryan Raschke
The iron rich metallic sting still strong in my mouth,
the seemingly lifeless body sprawled across the couch.
Pulse quickening, vision still a blur,
franticly pacing back and forth with thoughts of what the neighbors may have heard.
As I calm myself I move slowly towards the body,
taking note of every bruise, every scratch, and every gash,
focusing in on her throat, I notice my firm grip had left the appearance of a rash.
This horrific sight made me ask myself “how could I do this monstrous act?”
Then I realize that in fact, this is just that, an act.
For an act is a part of a play, a play in which I am a part of.
And in this play, this disgustingly beautiful play.
I am the playwright, the star, and the critic,
But most importantly I am the audience, gazing down in complete awe of my performance.
For this disturbing little act I am required to play many roles.
So many roles in fact, that I often lose who I am, and find it hard to keep my sanity intact.
But one role is constant, never changing, and always the same,
the role of the victim, the beaten and restrained.
Peering down at the shivering body I notice a bit of blood
Removing it with my forefinger, I close my eyes, savor the moment and rub it on my tongue.
Again! That metallic sting erupting my senses.
Sending lightning down my spine, leaving me in paralysis, vulnerable, and defenseless.
As I regain my faculties I see the body begin to stir
So I grab a near by steak knife and plunge it into her
Twisting and turning the knife, I begin foaming at the mouth
Nothing has ever brought me such pleasure like watching this body lose its life, right here on my couch
In anticipation of the moment i close my eyes basking in thoughts of my sin.
Awaiting her last exhale, and eager to breath it in.
Excitement has overcome me, I really cannot wait.
Starring into her almost lifeless eyes I kneel down and whisper
"did you enjoy you're last first date?"
-alternate ending-
The Play
The iron rich metallic sting still strong in my mouth,
the seemingly lifeless body sprawled across the couch.
Pulse quickening, vision still a blur,
franticly pacing back and forth with thoughts of what the neighbors may have heard.
As I calm myself I move slowly towards the body,
taking note of every bruise, every scratch, and every gash,
focusing in on her throat, I notice my firm grip had left the appearance of a rash.
This horrific sight made me ask myself “how could I do this monstrous act?”
Then I realize that in fact, this is just that, an act.
For an act is a part of a play, a play in which I am a part of.
And in this play, this disgustingly beautiful play.
I am the playwright, the star, and the critic,
But most importantly I am the audience, gazing down in complete awe of my performance.
For this disturbing little act I am required to play many roles.
So many roles in fact, that I often lose who I am, and find it hard to keep my sanity intact.
But one role is constant, never changing, and always the same,
the role of the victim, the beaten and restrained.
Peering down at the shivering body I notice a bit of blood
Removing it with my forefinger, I close my eyes, savor the moment and rub it on my tongue.
Again! That metallic sting erupting my senses.
Sending lighting down my spine, leaving me in paralysis, vulnerable, and defenseless.
As I regain my faculties a sense of remorse sets in.
So I unbind the woman, turn and walk away.
Just then I hear a fait voice from behind me say.
“baby I love you, you know just how to treat me.”
I just shake my head and continue walking.
Then stop, smile, turn and say,
“girl I love you, but bitch you CRAY!”
By: Ryan Raschke


wae aye man ye radgie
