Friday, November 21, 2014


Hunger is purple, like the coldest spark that precedes the flaming ache.
It's a carnivorous animal that feeds on a dead bird inside my no-where land.

(I call my body 'no-where', because it has a gaping hole in the middle of it, enclosed by a regurgitated barbed wire that got stuck in my chest from swallowing too many warnings signs.)

Hunger is craving to gulp the sharp edge of a knife to feel something.
It's chocking on a muffled scream at 6 am. to show them you know how to breathe.

Hunger is dreaming of a downward ladder into the deepest edge of dust to master the art of denial.

Hunger is 2 steps of disintegration, starting with eating your own bones, followed by gnawing at the leftovers of your soul only to watch them eat your cake while you have its poison too.