deepwaterwritingprompts:Text: The creatures in the forest want to feed us. They want to confuse us,
deepwaterwritingprompts:Text: The creatures in the forest want to feed us. They want to confuse us, love us, sometimes even kill us. But mostly, they want us to eat. Oh baby, just look at you. You’re not well. What have they been feeding you? Processed corn? Milk fit for a toothless newborn to blindly suckle? Pale drained cuts of domesticated meat? Come out into the wild, baby. Everything that flies and leaps and crawls down here wants with all its life to be eaten. Let us feed you, baby. Imagine the blood dripping between your teeth. That stuff they call meat that they put on your table? Baby, it’s no good for you. Cows, chickens, pigs, with all the life bred and nurtured out of them. They don’t want to feed you, baby. They don’t want much of anything. Crammed lifeless, end to end, breathing in each other’s shit and stench, herded mindlessly to slaughter. All the sets of hands that handled that meat, bled it dry, butchered it, trimmed away all the skin and eyes and innards and desire before you even got to set your eyes on it. A vole, a hare, they thrash their legs and flail and shriek and give it up the moment they feel the jaws clench down on them. They were born for this, baby. They were born for you to eat. Here in the forest, everything that grows, grows to be eaten. The grass, the seed, the brown dry grain that deep beneath the earth casts off its shell and multiplies, bulging white and pale to lap thirstily for moisture first, then unfurling past the soil to reach greenly to the sun for knuckled ruminant teeth to tenderly grind apart into moisture and cellulose - oh lord, oh lord, all that work, just to be torn apart and eaten. Don’t you love it? That’s what we’re here for, baby. Open that mouth wide in anticipation. Every sprouting berry, leaf, flickering twist of tail, black glinting eye, furred, feathered and scaled, feeling the teeth close down and knowing this was what they were meant for. Even the cougar, the wolf, the bear - oh, we see it coming. Oh, we want it. Our pelts sagging on our bones, eaten through with rot, the worms, the maggots bloated, the dark wet earth, the swarms of buzzing flies, scavengers feasting on our corpses. Back to the earth, and then the grass again, newly growing. Your mouth, wet and all-devouring, baby. Why do we exist if not to feed you? Just come into the forest, baby. We can’t swear that you won’t get lost, or that we won’t eat you, but that’s the risk that we’re all taking. Are you hungry yet, baby? That food’s no good for you, baby. It won’t love you like we love you. What else are those teeth for? What else are those hands for if not to hurt us? Come down into the forest, baby. Let us feed you. Eat. Eat. Eat. Eat. Eat. -- source link
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