She, By Johnny C

She stood on that stage like a martyr

Insults hurdled from the filthy masses

As she sang like a dark angel.

A voice so high and sweet

She sang of death and of pain

Of sorrow and of hatred

And she sang of madness.

And I was angry.

Her face was flawless

She knew nothing of anguish.

I cornered her after the show

And told her so.

Told her she knew nothing of suffering.

And she turned those great dark eyes upon me

She searched my eyes

And I grew uncomfortable.

And she said to me

"I know as much about anguish

As you know about madness."

I wanted to claw at her

Mar that face that spoke such lies

"Beauty does not know of pain!" I screamed

She reached into her pocket

And drew forth a straight razor.

It glimmered in the moonlight.

You could see the sharpness.

She handed it to me.

"You say I know nothing of pain.

Then teach me. Teach me what it is to hurt."

I stared in shock

She wanted pain?

Wanted death?

"Teach me, madman. Teach me what pain is."

So I taught her.

I almost hate how cruel I was.

I taught her pain

By letting her continue to live

In a world of idiots and assholes

And madmen like me.