I like to think I’ve kept up the illusion

Of chewing the fat

Laughing at my own expense

So that it doesn’t sound too intense

When I list the things I ate today

Not like calories mean shit to me

I ate when I thought I should

but sometimes I curate that hollow feeling

Carve out my guts like a pumpkin

and pop a candle in my chest

So I can be appropriately festive

Swallow gasoline to stoke the flames

Little grains simmering

Boiling my spittle

Wax dripping down the crevasses

in my ash -grey brain and swallow the paint chips

From the old coat worn through

Thread bare holes so my keys

slip down to the soles of my shoes

I’m a good little poisoner

Take my medicine with a grin a bit too wide

Shit-hot cauldron bubbling

my pride down to a paste

Face cut like a jigsaw puzzle

Muzzle tight

Tanning at 2 am

In the white light of the refrigerator

I could bite into the hard plastic

Lick the door

And pour myself another dram

Two sips of late night loathing

With a slice of lime

Steel cold whining

Arm deep, freezing my tits off

But shit

I could sink my teeth into something

my mother never let me

wet my whistle with regret

Fists full

Don’t pull me out yet

Even if I’m drowning

I’m too hooked on the sound of

That grumble, that ache

That fake crunch of crisp

Makes me wish I was thinner

But dinner is half stale failure

You only see me cheeks full

Grease drip like an oil can

Lips smacking speaks louder than

My constant hunger

A deep fried tsunami pulling me under

Pretend I’m more than the soft yielding melt

Of self control

I’m a sausage roll, pastry crumbling

I’m a sillouette fumbling

To brush away the evidence

Of the rolls of skin I’m hiding in

Squeezed and sucked

Tummy tucked

Into my starving skeleton