The imagination when it takes flight from the body, with the body, when it dives deep into our entrails and carries them away with it, fire and hatred dripping black behind . Old hungers / Will break their coffins, rise to eat and thank. Gluttonously stained with the blood of his mothers killer- ( rebirth , can you forgive yourself ? )  cradling everything he cares about close and stepping back into the light , watch their horrified expressions , your stomach twists in delight and regret . gobble down their hate until your mouth bleeds with it. after all it was him who killed fake pro hero all might . The lines are blurring , Is the man whose blood you spilled the animal you'd like to tear apart, or does it stare back , vacantly in the mirror as you get ready to teach your next class ?