Breakfast, the Most Important Meal...
Son of a bitch
I slam the alarm's snooze button
So it shuts up for a few minutes
And I can gather my bearings.
I turn of the clock completely
As I finally get out of bed.
The smell of coffee being brewed
From the automatic coffee pot
Fills the house.
I quickly shower and get dressed
My stomach growling at me for
"Soon, my friend."
I grab some coffee and turn the pot
Off, not wanting to start another fire.
On my way to work, I pass multiple
Fast food joints that have breakfast
Lines around the building.
"Damn it. Hold on, stomach, there might
Be a snack at work."
I pull into the parking lot and yawn,
Still a bit tired and really hungry.
I get out of the car and head inside,
Flashing my badge to the security guard.
Once inside, I head to the break room
And look around for anything to eat.
Not even forgotten leftovers in the fridge.
"I guess plan C, then."
I head to the elevators, put on my lab coat
And step into the opening doors.
Down in the chilly basement,
I look around to see if anyone is around.
Empty security desk.
I briskly walk into the cold morgue
Of the hospital and start searching
For a fresh bag of meat.
Ah, one from today.
Still warm, too.
I open the body bag and smile
As I see the gore hanging from
The mangled mess of a torso.
I inhale long, noticing my mouth
Watering at the aroma.
I lean down, ready to take a bite
When I feel cold hands on my head.
Straining against the grip,
I look up and see the corpse's head raised
From the slab.
It wails as it looks into my eyes.
Screaming, I try to fight my way
Free until I feel teeth on my scalp
And hear a final crunch.