I'm not romanticising cannibalism. It's horrible and disgusting. It's mental. I hate it. I hate this part of me. Don't ever think I romanticise this shit.
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My heart pounds at the thought of you.
My mind races with images of your body.
But if I think too long then the perfect images become a gruesome scene.
This happens with everyone.
I can't not look at someone without thinking of mutilating their bodies and eating their flesh.
I'm so thirsty.
I'm craving warm thick blood down my throat. I wouldn't let a single drop go to waste.
My love.
As much as I way to keep you safe. I want to tear your body open and eat you.
I want to rip you apart.
I'll settle for just licking up your blood from any small wound. I'll settle for carefully cutting your precious skin and licking it up.
Though.
I don't think I'll be able to stop myself from peeling back your skin and eating you.
I'm disgusting.
I'd tear my own flesh off my body before I harm a hair on yours.
I'd mutilate myself before I touch you with the intent of eating you.
But others.
Others don't have this luxury.
I'd tear them apart the first chance I get.
Just to taste.
My breathing is so ragged. So uneven.
I'm getting to warm.
My body is on fire at the thought of all this.
The thought of eating someone.
I can almost taste the blood.
The meat.
I can almost hear the screams.
It's vial.
It's disgusting.
I hate it.
I fucking hate it.
Get this out of me.
I'm sorry
YOU ARE READING
Book of thoughts
PoesíaThis is me venting because I have a lot of feelings and I can't handle them. Some of this is in poem form. Some is NSFW
