Innocent Hands

I polish my knife

In every dream

Every night

Every night I clean up the blood,

Stained, dark red liquid on the floor.

My dreams can never rest

Until..

He cannot live anymore.

 

I polish my knife,

I swear I do it thoroughly

With care, yes almost passion;

I mean

It's not revenge, not a crime,

I'd be a savior if

He'd finally stop breathing.

Two drops

And bleeding hearts are leaking.

 

See, every night

I polish my knife

And I await in fear,

Something, I thought I wouldn't ever dare.

It haunts me.

Kills me.

Makes me

Fucking throw up.

His eyes are always watching me,

 Invisible hands are touching me,

It's twisting my guts.

And with a punch in the face,

Loneliness and shivers:

A desire to end what caused

Madness.

 

I polish my knife,

Never put it to use,

I want to be hurt

To have an excuse;

I see blood on clean, white walls

And on innocent hands,

Blood everywhere.

 

I polish my knife 

So since I'm a killer

I'm not the one to be killed.

I see him everywhere,

Receive bloody stares;

I will never be free,

Unless..

It is his blood I see.

 

I polish my knife.