Fresh baked bread
Layered in death and vegetation
My insides burn with withdrawal
It's been almost 24 hours now
How much longer will it take?
To either cave in unwillingly
Or to die painfully slow?

If I had not forgotten my cash
I'd have given in to my survival drives
I'm happy I forgot it
Because I can't stomach the idea of food
Let alone choke down somethings g revolting
Only because it pulls me further away from death

Instead I flood my veins with nicotine
Desperately trying to curb these cravings
My legs threaten to give out
With each step I take
Even now, scratching this among global fem notes
Dissociated entirely from class
My hands won't stop shaking

Is it nerves?
Or physical deterioration?
Or the panic lying under the surface?
Deafening screams ricochet through my mind
As I try to drown these feelings
But they won't disappear

I've dropped significant weight
And I don't want it back
I don't feel the need to lose more
But still it falls away
And eventually leaves nothing but skin and bones
Fueled by electrifying anxiety

Lydia 22h

the microwave dings and my dinner is done
I pull out a plastic bowl filled with what once was
frozen spaghetti
for one
I remember thinking before
anyone who resulted to eating frozen dinners was sad
hoping for something better

these days all I see
is freedom to do what I please
and happiness in being alone

Dinner for one
Sanny 3d

The burning feeling in my stomach calms me.

I don't even mind.

You have been my friend for years.

Feeling myself starving makes me feel alive.

The crawling under my skin. Too familliar.

I'm in control of my destiny, or am I?

My body is disappering and I don't care.

Do I live or die? It's up to me.

My old friend. I haven't seen you in awhile.

All the years we've spent together, makes me feel close to you once again.

Do we go down together this time?

I don't care as long as you're with me.

You're the only one who never leaves.

With you by my side I'd do anything.

Even destroying myself in the process.

Poppy Oct 28

I made her a sandwich today.
Women make the best sandwiches.
Don’t let any man tell you any other way.
Mom your crazy, she took it and ran.
She is right
But I don’t see her father making sure both sides have jam.

Wayne Nov 9

I take a bite.
The taste, it's sweet.
The texture, it's crisp.
I take another bite.
The taste, it's grand.
The texture, it's great.
I take a third bite.
The taste, it's old.
The texture, it's the same.
I take one last bite.
The taste, it's gone.
The texture, it's nonexistent.
Why do I do this to myself?
I guess that's just the way the cookie crumbles.

It's feeding time.
Put your favorite food on the stove,
But don't you stand beside and stir as there's lots left to do:

Like drying your eyes with a light of meaningless information
Like running laps between choices to make, never quite reaching any
Like watching herds of dust cats growing in every corner
Like ignoring texts
Like drifting away
Like feeling dead
            or fearing you will be
            or wishing you were
Like covering your skin's imperfections with pure red
Like decorating walls with scratches for every time you've ever:
            inconvenienced someone slightly
            thought ill of anyone or anything
            made others worry
            failed to take care of yourself
            burned your food

Now that you've taken your time with these routine steps, your meal should be ready.
You've done well. The charred bits serve as perfect fuel to the fire that consumes you.

The resulting smoke signals a message:
"You were right,
you truly are worthless.
Here's what's left,
only a few bites from what's unburnt.
You deserve nothing more"

A memory of my days spent living in a college dorm. I'm glad these times are over.
Angie S Nov 5

with the break of dawn
     i feel hunger following my sleep
arrives the warmth of the sun
     and the warmth of fresh breakfast
beside me is an indentation in the bed
     following its scent i linger on sugar
your scent still lingers in the blankets
     its irresistable; i'm hooked on this flavor
i hear your footsteps like shy murmurs
     sweet blueberries and soft muffin bread
lifting my eyes to meet yours finally
     i find solace in its simple beauties
you are my sunrise my dear
     the day is not complete without you

today's prompt was "blueberry muffins"! i tried something a bit different with this poem; there's more than one way to read it!

hmm. what i would give to nibble on a blueberry muffin.
Diana Garcia Nov 1

Oh the beauty I've created
This party of texture has me inebriated
With the right amount of finesse.
All the best foods leave a mess.
And this burger is finger licking good.
I'm living in between meals right now
So please don't let me be misunderstood.
Avocado breakfast burger, you are my god
Cause I've a single prayer, not for money not for a hot rod.
I prayed so my tummy could be full.
Not to any religious icon, to me that's all kind of dull..
I prayed to my skillet, hoping someday I'd be able to fill it...
I've got good rhyme going I hope I don't kill it
It should be a crime to be this poor.
But it's better than sleeping on the floor
It's better than a million scenarios of which I don't have much time to explore.
For now my tummy is reloaded
Onward I go, happily bloated..

Good day
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