consumption all I want to do is consume
maybe replace the ball of crap that is somehow sentient? fill it with immaterial junk like busted ass
keys from grand pianos, made of ivory, baby,
we don't fuck around
tusks straight through the meaty flesh of my insides
served to the butchers, tendons and thighs
people eating me up from the inside while all I want
is to have my cake and eat it too
I want something for myself, goddamnit
limousines and black leather sheets made of
every bad(secretly depressed) boy's jacket
give me it all for every piece mends my soul back together
inside and out
until I am somewhat human
