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Not a psychopath

Not a psychopath

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WpMetadataNoticePublikasi terakhir Kam, Des 21, 2023
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I am a killer. I will forever be. I am labeled, and it's too late to change it. So I keep going. Continuing to make the same mistakes over and over again. Though, is it really a mistake when you do it consciously? When you feel joy while holding the knife. When you yearn for that intoxicating feeling every single day? No, it's wrong, but it's not a mistake. I like to believe I can take off the mask, but the truth is that the mask is always on. It's been on for so long that it has become my face, or maybe my face has become the mask? The blood can be washed away, but not the feeling. The hungry feeling that's always there. The more you feed it, the louder it howls for more, and you hope that one day it'll fall silent, only when it's satisfied enough.
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I wear a mask so well that even I almost believe it. Almost. Then I met him. His eyes were hollow, his smile a lie-just like mine. In him, I saw my own reflection, the same quiet suffering hidden beneath perfect façades. For the first time, I wasn't alone. But happiness is always fleeting. One moment, he was there. The next, he was gone. A fall from a rooftop. A life stolen too soon. Now, the world feels unreal. Shadows shift. Whispers grow louder. And in the corner of my vision, I still see him. If he's gone... why does it feel like he never left?

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