you're still crying, you have been for days
you eat you sleep you shit
but nothing else shows you're really here
just leftovers
just a transformation process
you're a machine
it starts out looking delicious as you taunt it with your soft tongue
it comes out smelling and shows your true,
true goal
maybe i'm next to you
on a disposal in the woods
leaves in my hand
but i sure as hell hope not
i'm probably wrong