My hunger escalates
Like the pooch that wanders the streets
Scavenging for the desired scent of food
To plaster the sting of a Belladonna
That lingers in the stomach
The affliction intensifies
I try to move my enfeebled limbs
But to no avail; they remain stale
Like parts of a run-down rusted machine
Which only screeches when moved
My thirst deepens
Like my spirit was siphoned away
My throat shrivels and dries
Clearing it is like rubbing sandpaper
I reach desperately for it
I caught it.
Was it satisfying? It sure was!
I can almost taste it, sweet succulent success
It sated my fervour but now I'm not sure
Because it leaves me wanting more.
I'd like to leave the subject matter at hand open-ended. This is perhaps about an addiction, a desire or a particular hunger. I'll leave it to you to think about it whichever way you'd like - literal or metaphorical.
Thank you for reading my work. It's been a while since I wrote. I have upcoming exams and also a little bit of a writer's block. I took a particularly long time to finish this one.
