You ever want to get primal?
You ever want to get loose?
Become cut throat  and cut throats,
go back to the time of sacrificing lambs and goats.
That's the urge.
That's the instinct.
Savagery in a instant.
Sharpen teeth and sharpen claws go back to four legged paws.
We praise violence in the ring
on media of trivial things
but war ,
it's rejected, reflected as an act evil
what minds they have so feeble,
the thoughts of civilized people

Her neck calls to me, bringing out my primal state

The dirt on my fingertips tells me I’ve been living my share of life.
Barefoot weather under forests boussom and twilight’s singing.
Passer by on agile chronicles of all perfectly ordinary everythings
slips off at the hint of fraction, contradiction, restriction.
Short and Primal-Stooped can nothing but ordinary days
be spent wandering: lessened by the shell of much disgrace.
Found no where but the ground we tread, and the blood we’ve bled.
Calling out to stones or Screaming at the air,
To find our names in the pidth of every nothing we have yet to see.
Often the clue of exactly why
we paint on the face of every
needless, ditty, grotty, blathered, ******, accursed, body ****** like a worm into the cold ground
to be eaten by time as a morsel.
Oh what a blessed blessing be it to be Mortal!

In his absence I retain no charm,
I return to a natural violence,
no my arms, don't create that alarm
that could charge him into that silence
ne'er echo, but that primal drum,
before manners were ever birthed, bring the
silence to my mind, the ***-ha-dum hum,
that beat I'll bite, I'll seeth! The heat
a mug that clouds my eyes, ne'er dreaming
nor baptized, I pray the body, the cross:
I exist, and, the limbs, tender, teething,
in his bones, in crux I've dreamt my loss.
I retain no charm when he is here,
For I never hide any whims, or tears.

dead dying uncles in icu rooms unstable
little weak men old dried up not dried out
you ask i tell, nothing to see here but ashes
time rots everything
so what tell me is the point
of pitiful, joyless struggles
all our own small motives laid bare
so crass and primal the animals we are
mucking about ******* in the mud