I want to know you dear, (tw light gore)

Your hair an art peice of yours, hiding away the bouquet of curls that frames your face oh so delicately. I want to grip it.

Your nose, a key insecurity of yours, but had been the one that made me appreciate the beauty of the body part. I want to steal it.

Your nails decorated with colors that had match your delicate finger tips, how it grips into softness, how it hold your cheeks that I'm unable to do. I want to snap it off.

Your skin is what I'de imagine the marbled statues would have felt, if it is as soft as they had convinced me they are. I want to peel it.

Your hazel eyes, hazel nuts I'de eat away, they certainly make me hungry the same way. The dark circles by your eyes only seem to make it look your eyes glow, the contrast further tempting me to get a glimpse of your soul. 

I want to gouge it Out.

Surely then I would see something deeper within your flesh. For your guts to be dissected, bit by bit to the point of exposure, I'de study you with fascination like a new discovered specie of divinity. Observe how the mahogany color stain my skin, only to leave a faded crimson red.To be painted by you is something I'de treasure, to be tainted tainted by you is something I anticipate.

The subtle pulse of your veins indicating consciousness, as it slowly slips away. Such vulnerable state, I want to be the one to cradle your bloodied corpse. I want to be the one to give you a more deserving death. For not even the reaper's very own hands, I allow to touch such soul. Such tragedy should reflect your beauty.

To discover your raw side of yourself, instead of the well baked one. Is the meal I crave.

No matter the bones likely to choke me. No matter the fresh wounds and bruise caused by the hunt that leaves a strange texture, no matter if your still, beating, heart, pulse. I'll have you serve as you are. Let the blood be your natural seasoning.

The desire so taboo, ever so tempting, teasing me. Am I deserving of such a meal? 

Appearantly not.