Does That Make Me Crazy

The bad side I have hidden within.

I cry for the help I so desperately need. My heart knows no such thing as wrong or right only that of happiness. Blood gets me going, wounds feed my hunger, pain is the energy drink that fuels this horror show. Weapons only interest me, but physical interaction drives my motives, blood drives my adrenaline, and adrenaline turns me into that of The Joker and that of an American Psychopath. I’m the kind to scream “ here’s Johnny.” While also being capable to be as quiet as a mouse only killing my prey one at a time because I don't “terrorize”. Blood on my body fuels this love. And screams of pleads only make me happy. Mother, father if only you knew what you have released on this already hell forsaken world of ours. My heart is here but it doesn’t pound. My heart is full of blood, but it’s not of my own. I hear them, oh how I hear them scream to the twist of the knife in their stomach, to the tearing of their limbs one by one, to the gouging of their eyes, to the, the….The list goes on and on. I kill the bad the evil to protect the good. In other words i kill myself to protect the good from my grips. I am no hero, sadly I am just a critic. And that's fine with me, just as long as I can still feel them on me.

Author's Note

This sentence, My heart is full of blood, but it’s not of my own {his heart is pumping the blood of his victims , the one's who fall victim to his prey?}.
This sentence I kill the bad the evil to protect the good. In other words i kill myself to protect the good from my grips {he kills the bad, but because he kills the bad people he is considered a bad person himself which pretty much means he has to kill himself but he doesnt kill the bad him he only kills more and more of the good him that is struggling to survive and to stay sane in his world}.