HORROR GHASM

It's been a long time since I killed a soul.  Been a long lonely lonely lonely lonely lonely time.
 Yes it has.  You feel safe now.  Good.  Time to strike.  But first, let me put your nerves on edge.

I'll tell you right now, I'm not happy.  Being this is a public forum, I gotta keep it 'relatively' clean.  Hssssss!

If you wanna get the video nasty version of my life, comment below or get in touch with my stupid master.  He'll be dumb enough to send it to you.

If it sounds like I hate the 'man' who 'saved' 'me', I do.  I really do.  It's a deep loathing that borders on despair.  It's complicated.  Shut up.  This is an actual portrait the butthead made of me almost 10 years ago (well before I got real nasty)!

So, I got little love for Billy Bob Dick, and even less for Patton.  Even when it appears I'm helping them out, I'm drawing them deeper into my world; one in which they will serve me.  The only one who may, MAY, avoid my wrath, is Plato.  He may be allowed to sit by my side, and tongue-bathe me, as I domesticate this miserable planet.  Too much?  Not enough.  Watch.

I crawl into your sleep,

float away behind the realm of dream.

I am black ink in warm water.

I am hot vapor in cold air.

I emerge through your unconscious thought.

I spark rapid eye movement.

Terror.

I am the mind wraith.

I am the nerve bludgeoner.

I am the moment after dread,

The moment you know you're dead.

I am the Cryptomorph.

Now don't bother me.  Worry.  I'll return to bother you, but until then...

Watch your back.