the already-eaten

If I dress myself as cake,
And eat myself up
There’d be none left for vultures
Thinks my foolish beating heart.

If I dress myself as cake,
And act like a nut
I might confuse the vultures
Recasts that foolish, foolish heart

But the vultures have come and gone
Oh my delirious heart
And you’re pumping out last thoughts
in a spreading pool of blood.