The Collector, Part 2: Donor - Light This City

Thick hands released his victim’s hair

As she slumped over

I saw her slender fingers numbered

One to ten

He sliced each from their knuckles

Is taking a life as glamorous as your records make it seem

What happened

A living woman wouldn’t cut it for you

Or they wouldn’t pay you enough attention

So you decided to fuck the girls that couldn’t possibly say no

He leapt from my new companion’s side

Clutching his ten dripping prizes

And slapped me across the face

Screaming

Bitch

Shut your mouth

I won’t hear another word

You think you’re any different from them

Just pray that heart is more gorgeous than the rest

Or else your death will be a waste of time

Just like your life

Damn

It’s true

Why are the ones who actually want the heart

The last ones we’d ever fucking give it to

Flies scattered and swam around my bloodstreaked face

As he resumed his desperate work

The last finger sewn in place

Unlikely for a man so drawn to novelty—

And so devoid of originality

To create

From the blank canvas of his mind

Such masterpiece

Even fanatics occasionally exceed

Their idols' genius

Maybe insanity is just truly seeing beauty

Still somehow

It may have all been for nothing

She is beautiful

I’ll give you that

But she’ll never be perfect

She’ll never talk back

She’ll never laugh

She’ll never be warm

I’m used to them cold

I like it like that

He scooped the insects from her sockets

And positioned her new eyes

They’ll never see you

She’s soulless

She’s empty

So am I

She’s ready for you

Are you ready to die

Jaded motherfucker

How many times have I heard that line

You think I’m the same as the pawns in your game

You’re just a tired cliché

A character spawned from a teenage brain

Are you ready to die

Well this is the end

What inspired you to slay and slaughter

Now you’re just selling a fucking trend