my nirvana

The more I attempt to write about it,
the harder it becomes to describe.
The more I think about it,
the more I think I need a mental hospital.

there is a hunger, as insatiable as the thirst,
which end up consuming the soul.
its a hunger and thirst so primal and visceral,
Your hands start shaking.

Its a thirst for blood.
A hunger for flesh.
Raw and warm.
Melting in your mouth,
filling every empty crevice.

It is the need to destroy.
the need to lash out and obliterate anything in the way.
the thrill of the hunt.
the feeling of utter power and madness

To taste that metallic fluid once  more.
the smooth texture,
full of flavor and life.

To have fresh meat.
carved and served without middle-men,
would be a feast for the beast inside.

it would not only satisfy me,
but it would complete me.
My nirvana

Whether it be demons in my head,
or the effects of dementia,
I dont want it to stop.

That same hunger that keeps me awake,
The same thirst that keeps me anxious,
keep me alive.
they make the drudgery that is my life abnormal.
interesting, to say the least.

Maybe I do need help,
but the hunt for a meal will be soon,
for one can only stave hunger for so long