I have an insatiable hunger for my demons
I crawl away and hide
only to leave the door open
tracing the blood stains on the wall
painting his hands, limbs, and fingers
I have an insatiable hunger for my demons
I dress in linen tasting a lot
like rosemary winters
thorns wrapped around as jewels
seas of calamity plunging at my chest
rise and fall of my heartbeats like his (atrocious) triumph trumpet
I have an insatiable hunger for my demons
a hundred young women
chant within me
we drink ebony juices
and feast on succulent fear
assembling our bones we make him a home that he'll dear
