Sincerly,

to whom it may concern,

i was never who you thought i was

and the bodies piled before i could blink

a little girl could not do this

but the detectives were smarter than i thought

I'm not sorry for your son's loss

but I'm sorry for your grief

I'm sorry you can't see my vision

or admire my artistry

I'm sorry you don't understand that I didn't butcher him

but I turned him into something more

beautiful

consciousness is a privilege

but I turned him into a gift

gave him to you in the mail

and you unwrapped him and screamed

like a child on Christmas

because cries of pain, and cries of joy

are no different in the eyes of the enlightened

how you would you know pain without that joy

when you think the red is paint

but the copper taste and smell overpower your hopes

and all you find is the face of your loved one

lifeless, but full of worth

so I'm sorry you're hurting

and that you don't understand

but I gave you a gift

and the price was the electric chair