🍽️
If I enjoy their attention today,
I remind myself of this:
They’ll call a nice dish “a ***** plate”
once they’ve eaten their fill.
Praise turns to pity,
desire to disdain.
The hands that reached for me
will recoil,
as if they never begged
to taste.
So I wear their craving like perfume
fleeting,
never mine to keep.
They were never here for me…
just the feast.
This piece strips away illusion to expose the cruelty of conditional attention. It’s a brutal commentary on how people often glorify what they consume, only to discard it with contempt once their desire is satisfied. A warning to recognize the difference between admiration and appetite.