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Description
I watch you as you walk around the room
Your skin as smooth as porcelain
No hint of a beard yet
Or maybe you shaved?
I hate you for your perfect face
It shouldn’t belong to you
It should be my face.

I approach you casually
One gentleman to another.
I offer you the drink in my hand
Whiskey, with my own “special ingredient” added.
You take the drink
Eyebrows raised
I smile at you
Raising my own glass in an unsaid toast
You smile back and tip back your glass
Swallowing it in one large gulp.

You go about your evening as usual
Unaware that I am secretly watching you
I saw the moment the drug kicked in
I saw as you began to loose consciousness.
I walked easily up to you
Claiming to those around you that I was an acquaintance
No one questioned me as I walked away with your limp body

I laid you down in the back seat of my car
Being careful not to damage your face
I drive to a small motel just on the outskirts of town
Purchase a key to a room
I come back out
You are still passed out in the back seat
I haul you up and fireman carry you into my purchased room

I lay you out on the bed
Admiring your face in the dimly lit room
The t.v is on
No picture
Just static, white noise in the background

I pull my surgical knife from my small bag that I brought in with me
I approach your unconscious form
I start at your forehead
Making a clean cut all the way across
It instantly weeps blood.
You do not move
I cut a circle around each eye
For I have my own and do not need yours
I continue down the left side
cutting deep enough as to separate your skin from muscle
I grab the freed skin of your left cheek
Holding it tight in my clenched fist
Stretching it slightly so as not to make the other side uneven
I slice just under your chin
My scalpel cutting easily like cutting through cheese
I finish my work by cutting up and in an arc on the right side.

My cut was perfect. Your face slides right off
I smile, holding the skin up to the flickering motel light
I walk over to the dresser mirror
I raise your skin to my face
Admiring the way it looks against my own.

I look happy
I am happy
Your face belongs to me now

Envy truly is a terrible thing to have.

Description
I watch you as you walk around the room
Your skin as smooth as porcelain
No hint of a beard yet
Or maybe you shaved?
I hate you for your perfect face
It shouldn’t belong to you
It should be my face.

I approach you casually
One gentleman to another.
I offer you the drink in my hand
Whiskey, with my own “special ingredient” added.
You take the drink
Eyebrows raised
I smile at you
Raising my own glass in an unsaid toast
You smile back and tip back your glass
Swallowing it in one large gulp.

You go about your evening as usual
Unaware that I am secretly watching you
I saw the moment the drug kicked in
I saw as you began to loose consciousness.
I walked easily up to you
Claiming to those around you that I was an acquaintance
No one questioned me as I walked away with your limp body

I laid you down in the back seat of my car
Being careful not to damage your face
I drive to a small motel just on the outskirts of town
Purchase a key to a room
I come back out
You are still passed out in the back seat
I haul you up and fireman carry you into my purchased room

I lay you out on the bed
Admiring your face in the dimly lit room
The t.v is on
No picture
Just static, white noise in the background

I pull my surgical knife from my small bag that I brought in with me
I approach your unconscious form
I start at your forehead
Making a clean cut all the way across
It instantly weeps blood.
You do not move
I cut a circle around each eye
For I have my own and do not need yours
I continue down the left side
cutting deep enough as to separate your skin from muscle
I grab the freed skin of your left cheek
Holding it tight in my clenched fist
Stretching it slightly so as not to make the other side uneven
I slice just under your chin
My scalpel cutting easily like cutting through cheese
I finish my work by cutting up and in an arc on the right side.

My cut was perfect. Your face slides right off
I smile, holding the skin up to the flickering motel light
I walk over to the dresser mirror
I raise your skin to my face
Admiring the way it looks against my own.

I look happy
I am happy
Your face belongs to me now

Envy truly is a terrible thing to have.