Shrunken

The boy in the cupboard stands in the ashes.

Down his face melts the tears.

Eyes like a tiger.

Defensive.

Broken.

Hurt.

Darts that pierce the everlasting soul.

Now what does he hold?

Drip…drop red and brash.

Drip…drop carved and gnashed.

Withered lay two.

Before them he stands.

A cruel smile, a timid shake.

Creep he does ever closer.

Skilled with the blade, driven by pure ecstasy.

Why?

He asks.

Unfolded before dawn does the scene.

Bloodied cries.

Red room lies.

Of the corpses he talks.

Damned, dirtied, stuck.

Unworldly am I.

Purged be you.

A blissful ending.

He smiles.

For me not you…