The world is perfumed by the venom that’s drenching her love notes
Every red river ever formed was made with deliberate brush strokes
It seems to me that your lucky strike has bred arrogance
Absolute carelessness, have you ever thought of how many car accidents you barely missed?
How many serial killers you’ve passed in public and just weren’t aware of it?
When the reapers at his most stoical that’s when he’s also his scariest
Like a snake lying in wait, cobra going for the neck
I shed my jacket like yesterday’s skin, the night wasn’t as cold as I’d expect
Sitting in the squad car, scan the dash for the Polaroid I kept
A still frame of the wife and daughter at home I swore that I’d protect
My somber silence broken by a text; the notification becks
Me closer to the tech, picture of an emblem in the thread, and the note inside it read
“Meet me in Montauk”
Like clockwork, a phrase so familiar
My partner requested me at his house, we were chasing a killer
We’d meet to decipher the puzzles, see how it all goes together
The markings on the bodies, the photos and the coded letters
I put my phone down and kiss my rosary, then hold it to my chest
Punch in the coordinates, a siren’s voice on the GPS pulling me back West
I whip around 2nd Avenue, blazing through the streets
New York seemed a lot more empty than usual, or maybe that was me
The con to a photographic memory is I remember every scene
The dismemberment I’ve seen, bodies laying defenseless in my dreams
Ghosts of a past life presented in red tinted visions
Am I looking for the man who did this? Or am I looking for forgiveness?!
Awakened from comatose by blinding headlights on the highway
Trying to gather my thoughts but they squeeze through my finger spaces like rain
My anxiety starts to fluster as I finally park near my destination
I gather my things but don’t open the car door due to fearful hesitation
Something feels....off
Climb the walkway, ring the doorbell, met by my partner with a bewildered look in his eye
I chuckle at his shock “James man, don’t look so surprised!”
“W-what are you doing here bud?” he asks, starting to pace backwards
“You told me to come here so we could discuss the Staten Slasher?”
“When did they let you out?” “Let me out? What are you talking about?”
“It’s been three years since you lost them! Let it go! I’m calling the hospital now!”
“Wait, what?” The door slammed but through the cracks I heard his last shout
“The slasher is dead Tom! Don’t you remember? You’re the one who shot him down!”
Dumbstruck, i trudge back to the car, with my sanity flipped
Streetlight acting as the spotlight for the star of this tragedy script
Sinking down in the seat, feeling morbid and sick
As I drown in the memories of the night that I swore I’d forget...
The killer of a killer, the irony is I no longer am innocent
His blade’s body count is nothing to my own ignorance
I grew obsessed with the case, and getting closer to the truth
All that time I couldn’t see him drawing closer to both of you
My crusade for justice was the most worthless of vendettas
Didn’t see the signs whatsoever as I was purgin through those letters
So when I walked in my home to see the room decorated with blood spatter
I didn’t ask questions, I raised the gun and unloaded the slugs after
But every night he creeps back, that’s the reason I can’t let go
On repeat in these lucid dreams, I keep seeing him slash your throats
Up state in this asylum, I kick and scream trying to save you both
A sea of these white coats, rush to restrain and force feed me my “antidote”
As these thoughts fill this stolen cruiser, a voice beckons from the dash
Its name is escape, I caress its nickel plated scales, then set it on my lap
Gently raise it up against my temple, and coax the trigger back...BLAST
In the wake of the crimson aftermath, the phone screen lights up a new text message starts to flash
“Meet me in Montauk”
Do nightmares ever truly end?
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