Anthony Perkins as Norman Bates from Alfred Hitchcock’s film, “Pyscho”

Slither softly,

inside you creep.

Parasite reeks awfully.

What could you hope to reap,

from a sheep who gratuitously weeps?

Suckle faintly,

and nibble on my heart.

Peel away at me quaintly,

yet calmly, you tear me apart.
Seems quite-like abstract art.

Exacerbate my every vice,

vicariously, you breath through me.

Tenderly caress as you slice and dice,

desperately screaming to be free.

Must say I, humbly try to disagree.

Paint myself a wreck,
as I attempt to sweep my macabre mess.

Dance alone, blade pressed against neck.

Feel the creeping legs acquiesce,
to each emotion I suppress.

There is only silence now,

alone, myself, and this creep.

Indeed darkness begs for me to kowtow.

Now I weep,
begging for eternal sleep.