They cry as they’re crushed.
Squish, squish. Squiiish
out their blood, their gore.
The floor runs red.
Toes get stained royal.
Heels grind deep nectar.
Enthralling murder
destroys my inhibitions
and crushes my qualms.
I drink their blood
and their spirits calm
my frenzied passions.
I sober up,
wipe away death,
and plan my next encounter.
The Proud Dandelion 