Really Odd Treasure

Words swirl through my mind forming lines even stanzas, but most are lost, being slammed against the walls in my brain shattering them. Only one word has escaped this destiny sitting heavily in the center... Rot to become rotten, to decay, to spoil, decompose, the tastiest word in my repituar. The thing about rot ....that's so nice is one touch and it spreads, living or dead. all is affected, the only thing to stop it is to cut it out. So I let myself out of my cage again ready to use my touch to help society spreading, infecting caressing, leaving my mark on the world. Now it's time to pay back what it's given to me, stop wearing the key around my neck, and use it, time to stir the cattle, enough with ordering a dinner and staring at it all night, find the weak, the tame, the unmarked and go for the throat, feel the blood run down my own neck, the gore building up, covering my eyes, burning, yearning, enjoying, calming me, making it easier to deal with these things called people, the herd, the curr, the meal ticket. Licking my lips loving the chunks sliding down my face, I move to the next, the next, the next, love it, I won't leave it. My maiden, bloody, quivering lays on the ground, slowly, seditiously I circle smacking my lips, savoring, holding back 'til... I go for the lower back tearing into spine then I walk away let her rot, let her fester, wait for it, enjoyment building as my disease infects turning the skin to worthless goo. Watch it slough off slowly, caressingly, turning to gray, the most lovely color. And as I watch from within an inch of her face, I enjoy the pain streaking it like a stain in the road marking what I'm taking.