Feast
Shred all the notes and reminders,
Tear all the cards and gifts.
Those days lay long dead behind us
and their bodies are starting to stink.
I’m no more than a carrion crow
addicted to the flesh.
Clip my wings and keep me close,
Brand me with wire cage mesh.
Cut out my eyes and break my beak,
Take my tools away from me.
Snap my bones and cut my feet
to help to set me free.
I’ll writhe and roll and fight and strain
and grind until I bleed.
I’ll drag myself through all this pain
because I ache to feed.
There are no notes or reminders
but it hasn’t done the trick.
If the bodies still lay behind us,
I’ll feast until I’m sick.
Liked or faved by...
