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Consuming Impulse

Your dry throat creaks without a saliva to sputter

As your pulpy dehydrated tongue soundlessly threshes

Days without sustenance spent shackled and fettered

Emaciated torso aches for the warm taste of fleshI will make a meal of you, your hunger I'll sate

Saw off your leg at the knee to put on your dinner plate

Try not to wince at the pain that you feel

As I mince up your calf to prepare your next mealCauterize the gargled wound to stave off the hemorrhage

You should savor the thought of your repast

Choke down this bitter meal in spite of your revulsion

Though how long can your source of food last?Keeping yourself alive as you're force-fed your own flesh

If you don't eat up, you're truly dead meat

Legs turned to stumps, bloody drinks gargled in clumps

In this case you really are what you eatAutophagous gluttony

Culinary pathology, dietary butchery

Consuming impulse

Ingest your corpse to beQuadriplegic you feed as your dinner is served

Waste not ; want not, though there's not much to conserve

Severed and severely served upon a platter of splatter

After a while the source of the sustenance barely even mattersNow a half-eaten torso gorged to the glut

Piece by piece you are fed the chicest cuts

As the dinner-bell rings your bloody chops are feverishly licked

At the sight of your own roasted fat turned and browned on a spitYour own meat in your mouth tastes bitter and internecine

Noxious and moist, you get a taste of your own medicine

Gnashing, pieces of your limbs with delight

Digesting your death with each grotesque bloody biteWhat's eating you? The question seems to moot

Scraping chunks of your feet out of your blood-soaked sopping boot

Bash open bones picked clean to suckle at the marrow

As your culinary milieu of options inexorably narrowsAutophagous gluttony

Culinary pathology, dietary butchery

Consuming impulse

Ingest your corpse to beFeeding time comes again, the thorax falls victim to this slaughter

Blood, pus and sebum replace wine, whiskey and water

Sometimes survival will cost you an arm and a leg

Your spittle running, red with bits of reeking bloody dregsMasticate your own genitals, choke on your bludgeoned testicles

With a hunger that will not be denied

The sweetest of meats is your soft, fatty teats

That I'll be stuffing your face with tonightPuking up your own skin, just to devour it again

Is a treat you'll save for dessert

Fresh meat for your lunch, fibula cracked, drained and crunched

As your overstuffed gullet gasps and blurtsYour crudely resected anatomy is a wretched grisly sight

But your stumps once arms just whet your appetite

Nibbling at the sinews of your bloody forearms and wrists ravenously

Devouring your shredded survival in fleshly chunks and meaty bitsEviscerate yourself to gnaw at your own intestines

Bones from severed fingers facilitate this haphazard self-dissection

Clutch at grume inside your bowels with half-eaten grubby stumps

Pulling out the repugnant meal in grotesque tumescent clumpsRemaining fingers prying off your succulent gouged out gums

Gnaw at your stringy cheek lining and masticate your insatiable tongue

But the pieces you ingest in carnivorous abandon

Fall out of the gaping that you have torn in your intestinesGnash the meat from your avulsed face in a frenzied rush

No genitals, no feet, no legs, no appendage left uncrushed

Half-eaten tongue oozes spittle down your face, your hunger

Undiminished, only when your partially devoured innards

Prolapse will this meal at last be finishedAutophagous gluttony

Culinary pathology, dietary butchery

Consuming impulse

Excrete your corpse to be

Songwriters

Matthew David Harvey;Michael Robert BeamsPublished by

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