You scream,

You cry,

You live,

You die,

Why?

Who cares, I’m done with you,

Move along,

I ripped the lyrics from your tongue,

You have no more song,

You feel that? It’s not your heart,

It’s my hand, reaching through your chest to claim what’s mine,

You’ll die? Well that’s fine.

Can you see me?

Can you see who I really am?

Why do you look so surprised?

Why does your face only show emotional demise?

Oh darling, you were so beautiful,

Why do you lye there, covered in red?

Why did you allow so many men into your bed?

The rain will wash you away just like everything else.

The long trench coat glides over the ground without a sound. A single long knife drips with blood, held in a gloved hand.  A body once beautiful lyes in a alleyway as the whistles of Scotland Yard sound.  Jack just smiles.