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Here, I lay out my sins
And await the doctors dissection.
If that makes me weak,
Then I'll proudly wear the title
Next to the arteries on my sleeve.
I'd rather be on the chopping block happily,
Than be the bitter butcher,
Or in your case,
The unforgiven cleaver.
So go ahead,
Cut and carve away at my soul
And tell me about how I'll feel better when you're done.
There's only so much flesh you can remove
Before you realize
You can't spell meat
Without "me".
Let me pour my insides out for you
Now tell me what else you want me to do?

After all the years of bad experiences,

There's bound to be much damage.

You said you'll leave me never
You said your love's forever
You said things would get better

...As time goes by...

I'm cracking under pressure
I can't keep me together
My dead meat's so much fresher

Butcher, butcher,
Where's your knife?

Mind don't,
Won't you take a life?

It is time to cut the meat
The finites, they love their steak

They like me super fresh
They like my meat bare
Because I taste the best
When I do not get any rest.
IPM 3d
My bones are turning
on the silver rope.
My flesh decaying
blackened dirt.
Foul meat
the hounds hungered long.
The day comes in with a
Flash of light and I begin to creep
Further into my bed thinking
Of days when normal was normal.
I reach my hand towards my ceiling in the
Dark room with a single blue light that haunts me through it’s enchanting glow
It’s mesmerizing glow astounds my
Soul. as I slowly begin to fall asleep I ask for answers to my “problems.” I pull my hand down and think of the blue paint that is now white and shining. My brother comes in after my brother opens the curtains in my room to awaken me from my decrepit sleep of shame and depression. I can only believe he is here to show me comfort or some basic form of loving compassion. He leaves without looking at me as if to say “I don’t care.” I look further at him wondering if these humans will forgive my weaknesses, my uncontrollable wanting and fear. I’m alone, I realize that now.  I am supposed to act like an 18 year old for the rest of my life? isn’t that unreasonable? I’m supposed to survive on 1/4 the food I need? What god planned this? I’m limited and forced to feel weak. I’m slowly falling apart. The cattle meat I’ve been been surviving on does not satisfy my needs. I need something to bleed. I sit up after these questions run through my mind and think of when my “normal” will feel “normal.” what complete trash of a feeling... what am I?
My mind as human as most of the people around me. My morals are changing and my hunger is raging. The pain won’t go away. What should I do, how will I eat?
buying food is super hard...
Shofi Ahmed Jan 18
It's all open through
without leaving a gap.
Got the meat in the curve.
January lunchtime–
I smile at the chef, my friend;
and think of poor cows.
Sat in a restaurant, ordering meat.
Chris Jan 4
Skin is but a thin, thin leaf,
Flesh is meat, and meat is good,
Bone is hard, but bone is sweet,
Under that, who knows, who could?

Blood is sour, blood is blue,
Veins are stringy, tasty too,
Heart's a muscle, not the soul,
And I don't mind even lungs at all.

Nerves are tender, tender things,
Pluck them, and make for spicy meal,
Play them as they were guitar strings,
And see how gourmet that soup would feel.

Eyes, oh eyes, exquisite blue,
(Brown and green as well will do,)
Look if what they see is true,
Look before I eat them too.
About human tendency to destroy others and enjoy.I am no different.
There's something in the air,
cold winter stares.
Carrion of the deer seems fair
and the sun stops its glares.

The pack of wolves left,
leaving their food untouched.
For a moment,
the feast was great,
but the storms greater.
The pack howled for the unseen moon,
retreating to their home, their shelter.

Carrion of the deer seems fair
with the snow and nature's affair.
Yaya Dec 2018
I never ate meat—
But children should.
So contemptuously
You served it up.
And I sat at the table
cold and shivering—
from a lack of warmth—
Staring at its cooked flesh
Wondering how to get out of this mess.

Until, salvation brushed my legs
With his happy, hungry tail...
childhood memories of step-grandparents
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