Beauty Like A Beast

So I’m sitting here scratching at my arms,
Upset at the thought of the attack- alarmed.
I weep in such thought that’s in me so deep,
Her beauty resembles a beast.
Its dark- not morning,
The smell of her blood that’ll be pouring,
Through walls not cleansed, flies will feast.
When I recognize her beauty is like a beast,
The odor of blood won’t go away.
The stench through the night- not day,
Attacks me than her,
Forcing me to want to attack her.
Alone in silence- still as ever,
I see right through the knife that’ll sever,
A heart from a chest,
Blood gushing over her breast.
She’ll enter a world six feet under,
Under the dirt and mud that uncovers,
Her beauty is the beast.
I gaze around the room and ponder,
Where is she right now- I wonder.
As I think I hear a knock,
On the desk the knife rocks,
A dash to the door,
Leaving an inhumane gash- she slams to the floor.