• My eyes should avert
    Away from the cat
    The crack-brained-cat
    Should seem repulsive.

    My tongue should taste bile
    At the site of his catch
    Of a fresh baby mouse
    Trembling, submissive.

    I wish for the might
    To throw them away
    Away in the night
    To continue the course.

    My face is green
    Yet not sickly
    With shades of shame
    At my lack of remorse.

    This sensation
    Makes me suffer
    Like a child in the wake
    Of a numbing delusion.

    In myself
    I feel a need
    To become a mouse
    Covered in contusions.

    I want to feel lacerated
    Feeling my tremors
    Of orgasmic bloodshed
    Staining his claws with rust.

    For if I can't run alongside
    Let me give up the ghost
    And become the prey
    Ending this obtuse blood lust.