Okay, so, I got bored. I hadn't intended to write a poem like this, but it happened. So...Yeah. Enjoy!
Lunch Time
He liked to eat the ones he loved;
He liked to suffocate them.
If only for a little while,
he liked to try and date them.
The girl of his dreams smelled like fruit,
but did she taste like it too?
She came over for a drink, and
he started to cook some stew.
Fingers, an ear, a hunk of skin here.
No one would miss her much.
Two eyes, her nose, and everything else:
He soon finished his lunch.

