Why shouldn’t I just, manufacture you
The thought arose one grim afternoon
A standard mold, dubiously groomed
Inspiring misandry, my vision was to fruit
Skin fractured, blood clotted profuse
Twisted to taste, in a justified abuse
Cooked to perfection for a feast of a cuckoo
Mold be damned, disfigure became you
Feasted I should have, my sculpture, my rules
No seer warned that a savior complex would take root
Smitten, beloved, your scars made me swoon
Oh to be foul enough, to make you live as my cartoon
I was shown no mercy, but you, I must undo
Reason after all, you never naturally came to
Death became you, the second asked it of you
No need to duplicate, the already doomed
Reflection of my heart, ichor bubbling through
I knew to be ugly, but it’s one thing to have proof
Restless and alone, without my handmade ghoul
Ghouls I didn’t sculpt, I call but where are you?