The Right Delight

I must say

I have a dark secret to tell

One that will mostly, leave me burning hell.

Call it a fetish, a sick delight,

It’s one indulgence I only enjoy

In the dead of night.

I earn for the smell of burning flesh,

While the sight of old rotting body’s,

No longer interreges me.

The sight of fresh flesh,

Furthers my erotic distress.

First I find a child,

No older than ten.

Then I kidnap her and bring her to my den,

Then I bring out my tools.

One tool for skinning the flesh off the bones,

Another for tenderly taking out the organs,

The brains and eyes,

They are the best part of course.

Another for crushing the bones into dust,

 The crunching sound is orgasmic to say the least.

I then throw my ingredients into my family cauldron,

Full of blood, bone, skin, spice and everything nice. 

“You know how it is”

“What else am I supposed to feed my kids?”