I’m full of
the *******
that resides in my
corridors—
these hedonists that slice
at my skin and my soul.

I’m old and tiredly awake.
The ******* won’t let me sleep.
They bite my guts with greedy teeth.  
I become water…I become grain…
sowed by sadism and adultery.

They transfuse
into me and
I evolve into
something horribly new.

No more my artistic aura,
my classical sense—
Just a specter of gloom
and dust floating
in the structure of a self I can’t really recall.

This is my holy downfall.

yesterday you want me to eat
all the foods in your fridge,
because you said
they'll make me stronger.

because you said
they'll make me smart just as you are.

you want your calories to seep through me,
isn't it?
and your blood to mix with mine.

But I hated all the foods in your fridge
they aren't healthy
they are processed, fake nutition
yellow painted on bananas
red painted on apples.
Just as you want me to be healthy
even if I'm not.

I never ate since yesterday,

that's why I'm still skinny.