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