Twisted Poetry

Chapter Two

The man in front of me reeks of

cologne

I inhale pleasurably

I chuckle as he shifts in comfortably

He's aware of my presence

The voices tell me so

They told me to befriend him

But sinister thoughts sink in

It's there fault

All this havoc

They beckon the awful desire

The hope to make others skin crawl

Why don't they see their own ruin

They try and set me right

Instead I'm sent astray

He senses me.

I feel it.