Monster

Its not a condition.
Its an addiction, a way of life, and a sad memory.

When you can't remember how many people you've slain,
its becomes a problem too.
All their faces in one mixing blur.
I cant let it go either because
I wished for this.
A long time ago, this was the only thing I heard about from my friends.
This act...
the power that came with it.
I wanted to live that out.
I never experienced it until 11th grade and then it was all uphill from there.
The monster was born.
I will never forget the surge of energy from my first kill, never.
Exiting that house with new found strength.
Oh, how little did I know.
No one told me the power was temporary.
When it wore off, I always wanted more.

It isn't a casual activity;
it can become a lust
and a craving.
Those guys who introduced me to this thrill didn't even know their selves...
there's a hunger for more.
We were good guys who just got caught up in horrible deeds.

Now I ravage the victim with endless thrusts and twirl my tongue wherever they flinch in pleasure.
Theres no end, sadly.
It will only grow worse over time too.
There can only be growing numbers, there's no decrease.
If I could start clean with a new slate, I dont think I would deny the chance.
My monster wont let me go.
My monster wont let them go.
It only wants more.

When the faces are too many to recall
and the moments are all recorded in dark rooms,
where do you draw the line?
How do you defeat the creature when you yourself enjoy the thrills?

Later Days