Charming Razorblades

Can I cut your throat, please?

And spill your blood in my hands, too.

How I love to slice that filthy flesh

and spurt them blood and lick a few.

Can I take that eyeballs out?

And let me eat it fresh and raw.

How I love to taste, no doubt,

them sockets and veins in awe.

Can I cut your head off, sir?

And roll it in the floor, yes!

Them blood spurting and spilling,

I love the sight and quirkiness!

Can I?

Can I?

No, that isn't a request.

Run, now, my baffled guest.