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Anthony Perry Jul 2018
There is something violent about how I see the skin on your body
Its so rich and smooth, almost decadent and unlike you

This observation turns into a premeditation when you touch my cheek
Its almost like i can feel the heat melting off your bones

As I laid you down and slipped a knife underneath your sternum
You whispered something hidden in painful tones like a sharp breath piercing the guttural moans

But I dont need to hear words to know the searing desire steaming from your guts as I replaced them with hot stones

The blood on your finger tips remind me of fresh water on leaves after a storm and your severed head looks like its been through famine, disease, and a damaged city plagued and war torn

Yet there is still beauty in the decayed decadence that is your mutilated corpse

The moonlight drowns in the canal of blood begging for remorse while the insects march and sing a song of things that can only get worse
©anthonyasylum
This is a poem about the need for closeness between two people
Ashwin Kumar May 2018
What is it like, to go hungry?
The wolf in me answers
Starved for hours and hours
There is a storm raging inside
Ready to wreak havoc on all
But especially on those cretins
Who have, in their callousness
Denied me the food
Which I so richly deserved
Leaving my stomach clutching at straws
My tongue lolling around in vain
My teeth sharpening themselves
Ready to tear into the flesh
Of the humans who ignored me
Ready to drink their juicy blood
Ignoring their frantic screams
The wolf yearns to pounce
And devour its tormentors
Until every pang of hunger
Is annihilated once and for all
Trigger Warning: The poem contains a few lines depicting gore and violence. Not recommended for the faint-hearted.
Sarah Mar 2018
Twisted thoughts escape his dry, cherry red lips; cracked, koolaid stained skin that admit to traumatic events unfolded.

I can’t peel my eyes away from his pale figure; a contrast to his orange get up.

The words smoothly falling out of his mouth, send shivers down my spine.
No one would consider his brain is rattling off recounts of that night while his inner friends help him remember the picture of her body that is burned into his brain- a contorted mind exposed.

Cooked flesh is the aroma he gives off and I gag, he stole my love and her smell still lingers; taunting me of an instance where I couldn’t be a hero.

The gavel pounds down and the cloaked man declares his fate.
As the newly added cold metal traps him into a life of isolation, he looks at me.
His ****** lips curl into a sneer as he is hauled back to hell.
Written 1/7/18
valentina Oct 2017
I’m sorry
I opened your chest
I took a peek
And maybe a bite
I’m sorry
But you’re just not here
He’s sitting right here
You’re just on another plane of existence
I’m sorry
But I just can’t help it
I couldn’t wait
I’m so hungry
Alternative title “I’m sorry what I said when I was hungry” cause it was on a $5 t shirt at Walmart I think but I thought maybe I should keep things a lil serious in my poems lol
My finger is strung up like ham,
I will cleaver it off
Oil the pan
And chuck it in the oven
On the table someone will complain about the bone
'I don’t like bones in my food'
I will be soothing myself,
Rubbing my stinging,
streaming stump.
Jasmine Jul 2017
Is the story true?
that he would swallow animals alive
or is it simply exaggerated
to shock our own eyes.
I believe he was real, but the story
it just doesn't add up...
how on earth did he not throw it all up?

Tarrare still lives amongst us
in smaller doses on YouTube
people eating their way slowly
to new subscribers, and fans.

'Interview with a cannibal,'
thats there by the channel Vice.
And if you look a little closer...
There are more scary beings,
hungry for a morbid delicacy,
I wish I had never seen....

Tarrare truly seems to be
the most volatile and sick individual,
ever documented...
But did he simply eat out of choice?
or was he so ill he couldn't be saved
From his eventual demise.

Whatever the case,
versions of this man, they exist

and the scary part is.
we thought it was just him
This poem is inspired but the story of Tarrare, a depraved cannibal, and videos I've seen on YouTube, The Deep Web type of content and other creepy weird stuff.
They have much to say about things
that they do not understand
Does the human mind have too little to think of
that it begins to twist the lives of others
weaving fictions and sending them out as reality
and their listeners mindlessly believe
They are fed with the misery of others
Never did I think I would become meat
to be passed around and pulled apart
until nothing is left of my origin
They have rearranged me
Those who know nothing of what I am
have managed to destroy all I have built
Years of finding myself
Spat on by their hunger for earthly game
It does not take tasting human flesh
to become a cannibal
They have consumed me
taken my truest form
and left it for dead
only bringing with them the ugly
The sky is blue and so are you
The roses are all dead
She's probably off with some other toss
Giving lots of head
But don't you frown don't let me get you down
I know it's not too late
To gag her trap and stuff her gap
And put her on your plate
That girls a *** so roast her slow
Tenderize her well
Its not you to blame for her shame
She's going straight to hell
But wait a minute you're face first in it
And what is this you see?
In the womb of her ungrateful tomb
She's carried your baby
You take that child and hold him for a while
It's the blessing of a life
But you've used your fork you've used your knife you've murdered your loyal wife.
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