Simple (Non-Rhymind)

About a self declared psychopath

He said why won't you dance with me,
So I said you wouldn't want me to,
He asked me why he wouldn't want to,
So I said.

I'm a psychotic psychopath, simple as that,
I'm not spinning you a lie, I'm not joking,
Despite being a psychopath I'm rather friendly,
But you wouldn't want to dance with me.

But he insisted that I dance with him,
He pulled me onto the dance floor,
So I stood there and looked at him, Jerking this way and that,
I pulled out a gun and shot him through his head, letting out a sigh.

There were screams and someone jumped on me,
They took away my gun, and kept me on the floor.
The police arrived and they arrested me,
They sat me in an interview room,
I didn't say a word to them,
So they called in a 'special doctor'.

I sat there in the chair with a blank expression,
While the doctor asked me different questions,
Asking about my childhood, like that mattered,
Not the right questions at all.

Finally, the doctor asked me why I had done it,
A smirk sneaked onto my face,
I had been asked the right question, at last,
So I said.

I'm a psychotic psychopath, simple as that,
I'm not spinning you a lie, I'm not joking,
I shot him through the head, and if I could,
I would do it again and again.

The doctor seemed astounded that I seemed so outright,
She sat there and stared at me coldly,
Her face was drained of colour and pale white,
I sat there and asked her boldly.

How long had she been a special doctor,
How long had she been working here,
Whether she had made a diagnosis yet,
Or if I'd have to answer more questions.

She just stared at me, writing something on her pad,
While I wondered if I should break her,

She finished writing and went to say something,
But I interrupted her.

I asked her what was the point of her questions,
I had killed him and they had many witnesses,
I told her why don't they just lock me up,
And throw away the key.

I asked her what she was doing here,
Why she didn't do something else,
Why she was looking so pale,
Surely the job would require daily interaction,
With people like me?
So why was she looking so pale,
I hadn't even started to break her.

She went to say something else,
Possibly to get back to questioning me,
To change the subject,
I must've been intimidating her,
But I had other motives, so I spoke again.

How do you separate your personal life from this, I asked her,
Surely it would be difficult to,
All the death and destruction surrounding her,
I didn't think she could handle it.

I told her she seemed like a nice girl,
Told her she should've done something else,
Mocked her by saying she should have been a nurse,
Not in this dismal, disturbing job.

Here she looked at me, but not directly,
She was waiting to see if I had finished talking,
I motioned with my hand that she could talk now, with a grin,
So she started her questioning once more, shakily.

[i]What were your parents like?
Did they mistreat or abuse you?[/i]

I just stared straight ahead blankly,
As I had done before, not saying a word,
She must have mistaken this for her to carry on,
So she said.

[i]Did you have any siblings?
Did they mistreat you?[/i]

I looked down to the table, softening my eyes and losing the grin,
I told her that I had one sister and my parents sexually abused us for years,

I told her it was routine and we thought it normal to do,
She seemed very interested, seeming sympathetic as I talked,
So I told her that my sister had once disappeared while she was being abused,
And that I'd never seen her again.

She wrote this all down, probably with some comments,
She begged me to carry on, sympathetic as ever.
I smirked greatly as I stared at her with my cold eyes returning,
Laughing in a sadistic way.

Her eyes now began to fill with tears as she put down her pad and paper,
She seemed astonished that I had lied to such a great extent.

She stared at me and I grinned again,
I could see she thought that I was insane,
I'm a psychotic psychopath, simple as that,
A psychotic psychopath, and in this room I'm sat.



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