Show Me What You're Made Of

Show me what you're made of.
Viscera aside.
We're high-minded and bloody.
Squawling,
shrieking infants.
We'll depart as we arrived.

I can say just what you need.
You don't want to be alone.
You'll tear them apart and break their wills.
For cheap, for free, a bitter thrill.
You've known it the whole time.
You want a razor's edge, my dear.
There's really no denying.
You've got the potence.
There's never been any room for question.
Animated by your will that turns inwards.

You're a fortress.
Cloistered up until you burst
at the seams, a rushing torrent
of pent-up fury, of animalism
there's no holding it back this time.

Show me what you're made of.
Viscera aside.
Blood and bone and sinew.
You've got nothing to hide.
Tear away the veil and dance in your bones.

Bending backwards for your love.
Bent double and unfurled.
The patterns of your flesh
the whorls under the skin
grow ever darker as you allow this.
You will allow this?
The taint takes hold.
World without end on the knife-blade
of the cruelest lip.

World and time without end.
With the souls of those you love dripping from your maw.
To pool in bloody-minded sentiment at your feet.
They watered the earth you flourished in with their tears.

Show me what you're made of.
You're fighting back.
In the small hours of the morning.