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Feed the weak

I’m starving

Feed the weak

My maw craves more broth

The sole purpose is

Growth

The fingers and teeth feel

Strong

Provide

Nurture me

We are kin

My sharp teeth

On your weak skin

Fingers dig into the skin

Forcing nourishment out from the nib

And the teeth prepare to tear again

The bodily broth will be consumed

Once again

To the very last drip

My succulent nectar

Sheathe your teeth

They’ve been acting selfishly

I brought you to life and watched you grow

Yet still you crave for more

These vile cravings are deforming me

Your purpose is to feed

I am here to consume all

My clench shall resurface the broth

Why forgo the convenience

I have every right to grow

Feed the weak

I’m starving

Feed the weak

One last drip

Seething hunger guides my actions

Dig in anger

No distractions

Your cries won’t bother the deformation

My dear Mother

I must tear you apart