No feelings, no regrets
A collection of limbs
Wrapped in wax paper
The ultimate achievement
A cold room and a cold killer
No fancy ways
No sparkling methods
Only the gleam
Of a honed ginsu knife
Silencing the voices
With razor sharp butchery
It's worth all the effort
To make them not speak
These horrid creatures
They must be made quiet
And bloody
The first stab is superlative
That first break in the skin
The satisfying crunch
Of a blade through the bone
Up against the wall
Throwing up arms for defense
There's no defense
Only the splendid gurgling sound
Of blood in the lungs
And strangled pleas for mercy
Dragging the corpse
Is the finest moment
Admiring the handiwork
The body's last chance to be whole