Date Night

We feast on the rotting corpse,

Of the dead horse we beat,

The words unsaid are the maggot heads,

Stuck between are teeth.

You screw a smile from a wincing face,

As your stomach bile regurgitates,

All the promising lies contaminated,

within sour skin.

Dont spit it out in front of me,

Don't tell me your not hungry,

These festering worms beneath the bones,

Are still good to eat,

See I've dressed it up all nice,

Peeled lemon zest with lice,

With spite infesting every memory,

All crawling inbetween the lines.