by ISAIAH
The white and black checkered,
strapped to the chair, severed,
there go the limbs, fingers and toes,
again, and again, again and again,
attacking my walls, drip by drip
as much as I wish, I slip,
my torturer exists in a doubt
my conscious,
don’t eat them,
devour them.
Even your best friend,
no one will accept you
after your change,
switch back to reality,
those people he’s killing, their lives end.
Go ahead eat him,
devour him,
before he eats them,
you’re no longer human, foul,
you know:
“I am a ghoul.”
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