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.