I binge on poems:
Poems about broken glass
And broken people.
I allow myself
A missed meal,
A forgotten snack.
How innocuous,
The blissfully ignorant
Rumble of my stomach.
But I don't starve,
Oh no-
I was a puker.
My greed takes over
In the haze of smoke
And the smell of his cologne.
I'm fine,
I'm fine,
I'm fine.
I'm too fat
To be sick,
Really.
Aug 12, 2014
Aug 12, 2014 at 8:14 PM UTC
I binge on poems:
Poems about broken glass
And broken people.
I allow myself
A missed meal,
A forgotten snack.
How innocuous,
The blissfully ignorant
Rumble of my stomach.
But I don't starve,
Oh no-
I was a puker.
My greed takes over
In the haze of smoke
And the smell of his cologne.
I'm fine,
I'm fine,
I'm fine.
I'm too fat
To be sick,
Really.
thoughts only make sense when they are poems.
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