This chasm is fathomless,
it falls
deep down
into the pits
beneath my stomach
built in
bones and flesh

it tingles within me
purrs with
unruly fury
when left alone
I feed it
fill it
compress it
down down into the
dark depths of my soul
so it will not
climb up
through the pit
skeleton limbs clanking like bells
until it
finally reaches my
delicate throat
and clamps down

I feel the
need of completeness
to feel full
it likes the taste
of my torment
the feel of
pins scraping my
limbs
it likes the
bile in my throat
the alluring look
of my
swirled content
in the sink
it gurgles my anxious
singing
it swirls my
desperate pleading
like fine wine
it loves the
gentle brush
of bloodied
fingers against a
trembling torso
that twitches in betrayal

it feels full
when I am torn
am split
between the
need to fill
and the need
to live

it smiles that
cruel and
cracked stretch of its
dark mouth
echoes of
taunts spilling
like the curls
from the print of
long forgotten
love letters

it is blackmail
to have
the choice of
feeding such a
dark hole with
tears or
morsels
the guilty taste of
those morsels
free of the
confines of my insides
the shame of the
tingles across
veins and
upturned limbs
of pale flesh sparkling
with glittering glee
begging for me

begging for me

to feel so full
yet so empty
and always
needing more