Grinding his molars as he cleans the blade
Looks into the mirror with rage on his face
It was a good day till she tried to get away
Unable to run or walk, now she’ll have to stay
Watches her face distort as she lies and dreams
Remembering how the whiskey made her scream
Doused on bottoms of sliced feet, and then cleaned
Mesmerized by the blood seeping at the seams
The pungent smell of sulfur and smokes help him to relax
As he throws a few more burning amber shots back
Reclining in his lazy-boy chair he begins to laugh
Reliving the entire scene, amused by her helpless attack
-Jack really wishes I’d let him out more to play…he hates being stowed away.
Want more of Jack?