Sense Sonnet - Chiller

 Secret Consumed

There is no tell tale heart that will

Tell authorities of my crime.

For the body that I did kill,

I cooked and ate up over time.

The heart was the first organ that

I roasted and did season well,

Then ate in private habitat.

So Poefully, it will not tell.

I guess in truth I live this lie

Of having been a killer knave.

I plan to eat these words and I

Will take this secret to my grave.

Even an autopsy will not

Tell tale this secret that I've got.