cannibalism warm up/practice !! im washed as hell
serves as a message for my future lover too ♥️
i lay myself down on my very own operating table placed at the end of one of many halls in my palace.
with trembling hands I pick up the scalpel and make seemingly random, but precise and meaningful cuts on the abdomen. i open myself up and my body blooms like a flower. it drips it's sweet juice, lathering me like condiment. not dead, still i rot.
i carve my small intestine into a plate, making sure the aftermath looks forevermore grotesque. its soft and no puncture holes leak any digest, I've been starving for a long time; i may not be sufficient as prey. i scale and search my insides, hunting, ironically, to provide for the predators.
i push my muscles onto the plate with my disgusting, bloody hands— this... will be my focal point, this is what I've prepared for, this... is my design.
my ribs turn sharp, as if in protest. their silhouettes form on my chest as they protrude, looking like little maggots feeding... stealing raw and unapologetically. then, like a bursting chrysalis, the ribs pierce out. they look... cracked and defeated, like not worth loving.
beads of blood form around the puncture holes, wanting to adorn me with their own sick sense of jewelery.
the angels cry over me for i am not for myself anymore, this body of mine was made to be destroyed.