Mama,
the weather outside
speaks hunger.

The air whispers
in chipped syllables,
cradling my bloated stomach,
muffling the laughter
emerging from K street.

Pine trees, brittled
by their barren limbs,
hum to me their
creaking lullabies.

I've seen the sun,
cheeks fat with food,
spit golden scraps
I was never
entitled to.

Perhaps the air
can carry me
through the winter.
Perhaps then
I can finally
dream of feasts.

It tasted good
So many flavors
I truly enjoyed it
I enjoyed food

I loved it until I thought of my body
Then my stomach lurched
It coiled and warped
My hunger retreating
After only two bites
I couldn’t force any more down

I hated the feeling
I hated that I couldn’t do it
I hated the food

But what I hated most
Was my brain
For forcing me to think like this
I did it subconsciously
Not on purpose
Never on purpose

It was all my brain

Hunger growls, and I listen.
I will be the one that lasts.
Out of sight, no sound given.
You will be the one I catch.

Wind howls; I am missing.
Sky is watching my advance.
Muscles tighten, knees stiffen.
Nightly creatures all in trance.

Screams muffled, blurry vision.
Searing pain — you collapse,
Giving in to intuition.
Knife digging deep and fast.

Two are one in coalition.
Hunger finally satisfied.

I saw
in the streets —
dead people
walking;
(tiptoeing...)
They’re
not deceased,
nor are they
alive.

I saw
in the streets —
that desperate
hustle;
(grinding...)
They’re
not hungry,
nor are they
satisfied.

I saw
in the streets —
the filthy rich
and the poor;
(begging...)
They’re
not affluent,
nor are they
the *******.

I watched,
and wondered —
am I
one of them
too?

I saw
in the streets —
the appetite
for more;
(hungry...)
They’re
not content,
nor are they
dissatisfied.

I saw
in the streets —
dead people
walking;
(tiptoeing...)
They’re
not deceased,
nor are they
alive.

No one’s
screaming,
but I still
hear the
sirens —
As they
pick up
the dead
people
walking.

The hunger I feel, its almost too much to bear.
Flesh on flesh, we love to share.

The pull towards the edge comes deeper and deeper,
She grips down hard, she loves when I tease her.

Her hair so lush, so soft, clean.
She loves when its pulled, it makes her scream.

The fire that's felt burns deep inside,
Mind, body and soul begin to collide.

Her hands and mine, they are intertwined.
She looks at me and whispers "it feels so good inside".

The sweat seeps down, it reaches her lips.
She pulls me in close and says "now s^ck my t^ts".

My tongue, my hands, a mind of their own,
It takes but a second for her to moan.

Whether rough or gentle she is more than capable.
But I must say, her appetite is insatiable.