You are the chips with saturated fat,
slowing my blood to a halting standstill,
making my insides the vile food of rats.
You are the cake which suffocates my heart,
causing it to over- exert,
turning my death into your food art.
You are the food I never learned not to have, the fat of the meat,
colorful as a bed of roses, but filled with mud,
So let me sit down, and let's eat.