I just needed to feed this hunger
To get my fill
I was so dam
Tired,
Exhausted,
Hungered
For that last mouthful
But I am on borrowed time
I couldn't be that which I wanted to be
The hunger was getting
Greater.
Borderline,
Insanity
Fed upon my thoughts.
Was I in control of my destiny.
Could I avoid this hunger within me
I was taking my last mouthful
"Eyes watered"
"Mouth filled"
"One last time"
I had done this a few times
I rejected the coldness that would
Follow,
Silence,
Regret
Had eaten away as I know this is
"The last mouthful"
I ingest the copper, it tastes
Like a coin ****** too long,
Freedom from this hunger that needed to be **fed.

The sun blazed down angrily that afternoon,
Sweat tracing a path down the backs of the hunched inmates
A moment of rest that felt so sweet but was over too soon
"Back to work!" spit spewing from between the guards thin lips

It had been 17 days since inmate 33421 had seen her face
The beauty with the dark strands of silk spilling down her back
And cerulean eyes that held such innocence
An innocence that had no business settling it's gaze on this brutish hell

But 17 days was an eternity here
And no doubt that pure soul was gone
No doubt the blood that seeped from overworked hands,
and the hunger that stained those empty mouths
and dressed their bodies in bones and sheets of flesh
and the anger and desperation that drove a person to the barest instincts,
had robbed that beauty of her innocence.

No, innocence would never last in a place like this.
Angels were not meant to live among demons
And that was what they had all become.

They who shut their bulging eyes in exhaustion
Slip away into a restless sleep
Fall asleep to the hopes of never opening their eyes again
Only to awaken in the morning to the soul clenching gut pains
and the agony that settled itself deep in their bones making a permanent home.

Others fell asleep hollow
And awoke the same way
Hollow with no dreams, or thoughts,
Only the mechanical need to do.

To keep on living
Although inside they're truly deceased
But the human brain is wired to live
To survive

Ah, no there was no way the beautiful soul 33421 had seen
Could still look upon the light of day and smile at the sun
Not when the sun cursed them as strongly as the men that stalked
back and forth behind the gates hated them.
Not while they all became the monsters
They were accused of being.

“How are you doing?”
"I'm good, how are you?"
I'm not okay, I'm never okay, not that you actually care...
"You're so pretty!
"Thank you!"
No I'm not. I'm fat and ugly, everyone knows it.
"I love you."
"I love you, too"
Do you?
"I'll always be here for you. Just call me."
"Thank you, it's good to know I have someone."
Funny, I needed you when I was ready to **** myself, but it went straight to voicemail.
"Do you want anything?"
"No thanks, I already ate."
No thanks, I'm not trying to gain any more weight, Lord knows I don't need to.
"You should go to sleep."
"Alright, goodnight."
Sure, I'll go lay in bed and think about everything wrong with me until 3am, but I sure as hell am getting 0 sleep.
"I need you...."
"Okay, I'll stay for you."
You probably do. But when I need you it's another story.
"You're so quiet!"
"I'm tired."
I'm over-thinking.
"What's up with the sunglasses? It's not even sunny."
"You know I look cool!"
I've been crying and I don't want you to ask why.
"You'll get over this. You're strong."
"Thanks I needed that."
Hahahahahahaha! You're so freaking hilarious!
"Your poetry is so deep!"
"I usually write when I'm listening to sad music- it gets me in the mood."
**I write everything I'm feeling, you just never paid enough attention to know I was feeling that way.

I sat looking at my tree
Its scratched branches held
But tinsel fashioned from old foil
"Grease still smelt"
Hunger,
Wanting,
Warmth
"Needed in the cold morning"
Bottle caps, coloured adorned the
End of bare branches. If I smelt each one
Flavours of ill afforded treats,
The stomachs, roar as in a pride
Of hunger, growling at others to show their need,
"Sammy's Sarnies"
"We wait on empty promises"
Then the door "ajar" wrapped bread  throw out
"As if feeding rabid animals"
"The door slams shut"
We scatter,
"Each for themselves"
"There is no honour in hunger"
Mouldy,
Stale,
Relishing
That others would throw out,
"This is the Christmas on the street"
"Our trees of bare branches"
"Adorned with found things"  
Now added to the huddling circles
The caps release faint odours
As the foil burns,
I taste in the air what was,
That now burns too keep each warm in this pride
Of the street, tomorrow our  roars will
Once again roar loud, but tonight
It is about only keeping warm.