Mouth For Algebraic Bloodshed

Oh I can feel,
yes, I can feel that molten essence.
Waist deep in every vein, 
attempting to weld a seeping intensity in me.
The dam will burst,
It will surely burst with your every absurdity.
Every ridiculous opiate you infect my mind with.
Your mouth is surly a soaked thesaurus for war,
I've got sharp teeth  baring down on my stomach.
Looking at me from the inside out, absorbing my every thought.
I cough his hair,
my skin at tear,
monster I wear.
Feed,
feed I say,
feed him.
I have a variable upon my hands,
placement is where i will feed my passion.
I stand upon the face of a demon,
Heavy,
ill-hearted.
Bring me a feast.
present this negativity to the table.
I want to last through dying scene.
My embrace at his service,
I desire to outlast this creativity on its' knees.
Help me outlast,
the opaque smiles,
the discoloured laughter,
the simplistic routines.
Feed me your mistakes,
give me impurities.
I dine for a faux.
Where are you barbarian?
Stick me.