the hunt

their stomachs yearn for nutrients
minds full only with instinct
desires to feed
desires to tear flesh from bone
well, will you let them devour?
your skin will make an oh-so-lovely coat
those bones will make for fine display pieces
and your meat… oh, your meat
let me use my knives, my wonderful wonderful knives
to strip fat from flesh
to divide wrong from right
all the while, your eyes shake
your lips quiver in pain, as if you didn’t ask for this
bare your teeth at me once more
it will not help you prevail, although...
they will make a beautiful necklace