Teeth against flesh. It's a chaotic ritual, seldom expressed, but one that's required. Nevertheless, there's beauty in death, and mourning is graceful- though, terribly stressed.
Who would pity your demise? A question worth a laugh (or two), and, to the answer- a surprise: Me.
I don't like you- no, I'm quite sure I hate you, actually- but it's quite hard to stop loving you.