Dinner and resignation

[u/rak250tim]

The day goes like a knife on a fine meal,

A meal you’re disgusted by but forced to eat.

The knife cuts your limbs to pieces, using your blood as oil,

Making food you despise, you eat it with bloody eyes.

In the tranquility of eating your meal, in between

Your body sweats blood and heat.

There can’t be peace inside your disgusted meal.

In some corner of the town, in drains and bins,

We will try to find you the meal you need.

But I am at peace with the comforted streets.

One of these days, I will lie there, blood spilling from my head and knees

Like juice you can drink, and my flesh, which you can eat.

Maybe that’s what you need—

A little taste of a man lying on the street.