Stop with the self righteousness
with that **** of the hip, hair flip,
tongue click pettiness
A round of applause for that display of selfishness

Stop with the villainization
I am not on trial and you’re not the judge nor the jury
Call me in contempt of court
But the true crime here is your self-victimization

Stop with the alliterative grade school names
Petty Betty and Salty Sally perpetuate your immaturity
Childish Chelsea double dutching that rope
Spitting her rhymes like it’s all just a game

Stop pretending it’s a joke, like your words hold no meaning
We all know you sit at home sharpening your syllables like knives
But you’re not the only butcher in town, I’ve finally found my cleaver
I’m ready to fight, I’ll leave you reeling

She stands in the kitchen,
while I slice her flesh away,
eroding a parasite, she's
the perfect picture of decay,
I'm birthing something new,
extracting the real me
from my sinews,
I've killed the girl you knew,
It looks like she's
psychopathic like me too.

Love,
Anti.

I met a lovely butcher,

His shop was such a treat,

He joked and smiled and all the while,

Cut up some chunks of meat.

Hang in there,
My little bacon back baby
sweating from head to toe.
Those little piggies
are squirming in their straps
spilling their veins across the tarp.
Become the smoke
let you being take it in.
Swinging back and forth, intently
in a room lit so dim
willing yourself awake
briefly, paralyzed by the grin.
"We're having steak tonight boys
along with hawks and ribs.
The main course
tonight
is a helping of long pig."