Who even are you? Sitting upon your velvet throne, looking down at the world.

What should I call you? Something Godly, you sure are. Something more than human.

Masochism is so cliche. The way you cut is different. You deliver justice with your blade like a reaper with a scythe.

You deliver karma in delicious ways that make me water at the mouth. I cannot wait.

I cannot breathe with you perched atop my chest. Yet I adore each and every second in which you allow me to not draw breath.

You spit on the ground and I get jealous of that pavement.

You walk on water like a deity as I sit idly by dying to lap it up.

What even are you?

Something so maniacal. Carefully crafted in a lab. Your only flaws being purposely injected so you could dwell amongst the rest of us undetected. Unsuspected.

You're something...

So fucking powerful... Mm.