My aunt once had

a smoothie for breakfast-

she always did.

She had to get to work.

She turned on the blender

And the fruit was still.

She turned up the speed

And the fruit was still,

But she had a nauseous feeling

In her stomach.

If only I had been there.

If only I had been there

When it came.

I could have stopped her,

But that aunt of mine

Kept turning up the speed,

Seeking food

And losing her soul.

She opened the lid

To see what was the matter,

But the fruits had an odd texture.

The cup was filled with berries

Made of fleshy, bloody cells

And when she looked inside it

She slipped and fell to her grave.