Eaing your thoughts

I sit and sharpen this blade of mine,

my incisions cut the meat so fine,

your grey matter with a glass of wine,

your thoughts on my plate,

with a touch of lime...

Daddy said don't kill a deer on the run

the meat becomes hard, you'd rather have none

I want you soft, runny and gooey,

brain cells are better, when they are chewy...

leak on my plate,

your hatred for me,

let me taste you, let me see.

ahh but bitter, not a surprise,

just ate a piece, your new man I surmise...