​This Lonely Flesh

Become the body

Become nobody

When all we have is to describe

And all we pay is to prescribe

This flesh an object

A tool to inspect

Glazed gold to undress

Hot commodity to possess

Sack of meat grind off the bones

Spins around all on its own

Pretty doll twirl

Sickening whirl

A mimic made the same design

Spilled in oil wrapped in vine

Muse to tantalise, suit to hypnotise

A home that feels alone.

submitted by /u/Emotional-Top6127
[link] [comments]