justice?

[limbs_lost]

my stomach, she aches and she whines and she's bottomless.
not because I haven't eaten much today, or yesterday
or for that matter any day lately that I can remember..
what I hunger for.. nothing but cannibalism could face on the battlefield,
could stare into the eyes of my troubles with confidence.
with such confidence even foe of proportionate stature would falter
and waver and worm itself from a red-eyed devil,
a beast who'd claimed an uncountable collection of wasted life
right down to nothing.

my stomach calls to me, calls warnings and sounds internal alarms
deep inside my starving cells, right down to my frail brittle bones,
they all beg and plead in unison
their demise and mine, all could cease if only..
if only what filled me were solid, more complete
if only my insides weren't soggily dripping masses of nothing,
nothing of true substance, nothing striking and immense;
nothing that could ever take you down.
what defenses are guts and poor poor muscles and fluids and waste waste waste?

the worst kind.