Morbidly witnessing, I can’t turn away, 
draw shallow breaths to the tune
of tense piano, down-tempo electronica 
with staccato strings & pulsating percussion.
My eyes mostly covered in palms,
cautious to see only the snippets 
squeezing past the cracks in my fingers.
Clever detectives note every hair, 
every errant fiber, blood-tinged footprints 
in the snow, splatter distance & subtle hesitation 
marks. All the pieces matter.
My craving for why is insatiable,  
until I plunge an ordinary kitchen knife 
in the heart of fascination, which just lies 
there disemboweled, depravity unfurling
as blood pools under my shoes.