A free-verse about a person who has sinned so much they don't feel guilt anymore.
the corpse is bloody and twitching,
not yet cooled, waxy grey, eyes wide and blank,
my nails are caked with blood,
the little red arches under each nail remind me of what I've done but I feel nothing,
I'm experienced at this game by now,
because a game is all it is to me,
the more i knew about the person, the more pleasure I get,
sadomasochism, sadism, masochism,
they blur together and mean nothing to me,
for me this is my day-job, night-work and pass-time,
and i'll carry on 'til they catch me and longer,
die and ache and bleed for me,
this is your fate,
this is my red-letter date.