A Whisper

Is it the wind?
The darkness?
Night?
Demons?

I hear things
Whispers of memories and dreams
Telling me, no, commanding me

To strike the match
To unsheathe the blade
To curl my hand into a fist
To break bones
To spill blood
To destroy
To hate
To survive on scraps of revenge

Yes, sweet revenge
It looks so simple
Revenge for what the world has done to me
For what path it has laid before me

The path of a freak
A violent soul
A dead heart
A rabid dog of society
A cutter
The path that I was chained to
The path that I will never let go