Terror

I am in love with the terror of my existence.
I am in love with the terror of my existence!
Sometimes it is like a drill coming through my temple,
slowly digging into my brain.
So slowly that it would take my whole life to drill through.
It pulls at the edges of my skin
and wants to tear my face off.
I am in love,
with terror!
With terror!
And there is no end to it!
I want to cry,
and I'll die, too!
I am...
It's...
It's a gun!
Somebody give me a gun!
I want to kill,
I want to shoot them,
and tear them apart with m y nails,
with my teeth.
I want to drink blood,
but I could never get enough.
I could drink until there was no more,
And I would still be lonely;
My own blood being the only answer left.
Is the only answer,
My blood is the only answer I have!
I-
I-
I will spill it!
And I will pour it,
and throw it,
and I will shower you all with my blood
and I will drown you in it.
I will suck up the sea to make
MORE blood
and drown the world with my blood,
and I will swim through it,
breathing it,
and I will still be alone!
Whatever blood I have left
will again be the only answer.
I can't kill you, love, terror,
I can only kill myself.

And when I contemplate that answer,
it's just too goddamned easy,
and too goddamned funny
to realize that I don't really want any answers.
Leave it alone,
Just leave it alone.