forgotten hunger
the echo of dull aches
crawl out of my stomach
and erupt neglected into the big wide world
they scream "FEED ME"
over and over again
"the last maniac I was with
wouldn't listen"
I walk around with a hole
instead of a stomach
light headed
every poem I write
is another hole
knifed into my belt
but it's one less distraction
and if i keep it up
maybe I can disappear entirely
and wouldn't that be nice