You ask me why I eat my feelings?

Simple.

Food comforts me.
It doesn't beat me.

It doesn't mock me for crying.
Doesn't betray me.

It puts on fat to protect me.

From fists.
Belts.
Sharp
Words.
Past.
Present.
Future.

If I look like I lack discipline.

You misunderstand.

Discipline was never safe.
Never safe.
For me.

So I eat my feelings.
Of un-safe-ty.
Never close to
satiating
the hunger for love
inside of me.