Name here,
Your eyes are the mustard gasses of my concentration camp.
My skin melts off in drippy hellish spats
Upon the mere mention of your person.
Literally.
I vomit and defecate
violently
When I stare at your picture
That I keep pressed against my anus
Inside my abnormally tight underwear.
I wish I could make you
The fanciest dinner
The world has ever seen.
But that doesn’t mean I want to cook for you.
It means I want to eat you.
Let me arch my back over your urine-soaked body
And vomit glass candies into your mouth.
I love you like a fat kid loves eating his own dead dog’s ashes.
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