#devour
Just before dusk, she knew where not to look. From the eyes that had stared at her too long—or the lips that quivered when he held her, or maybe the hands that noticed her cold, warred body—he covered it with nothing but warm tenderness. She knew that even from afar, his love would weaken all the places that made her angry. She does not have to wrestle with God anymore.
She knew herself to be an impoverished, wretched soul, one who wanted to devour every bit of his skin, to nibble at his soft, gentle flesh—she promised to eat him gently. Yet there was a deeper longing still: to have a glimpse of the heaven she was taught would be hers if she repents. But the more she tried, the more she wanted to interminably devour him—every bone, every goodness—his soft lips reoccurring, lulling her even more to corruption.
The wanting.
The adrenaline.
The hunger.
He makes a terrible sacrifice—she knows only foolishness in its objectives. The more he becomes gentle, the greater the hunger grows. She is sick in the head, the priest declares. She confesses again and again, yet her hunger keeps tugging at her soul—his tongue, her yearning.
She does not have to wrestle with God. And yet my God—why does her desire want him in a way that is holy? She felt the weight of God, but her desire urges her to euthanize him as a dog so he could be devoured.
It must be her punishment. Violence has stripped her modesty, sharp as needles sewn into rotten flesh.
Feb 6
Feb 6, 2026 at 2:30 AM UTC
Have mercy
Liar, I beseech thee
Do you not know I see your bones?
Listening to your words welcomes obfuscation
This play of modernity
This game of intellect
Beware lest I slip passed your mask and eat you alive
Deadly serious, this fool follows the light
Like a ********* moth, stupid
Delirious
Jan 11
Jan 11, 2026 at 7:17 PM UTC
Syrupy cinnamon fronts the taste of blood
They scoff without dignity
Their rich grins devouring the cheap treat
As the sun beats down intermittent
No real suffering, no starvation of thousands
Stand by the gift shop
Our saviour wore flip flops
Our greenhouse of primacy
To not know anything of greed...
Or of the penniless preacher who sowed a misconstrued seed
Aug 20, 2025
Aug 20, 2025 at 8:00 PM UTC
hungry
belly growling
go c a n n i b a l i s t i c
on victims of my appetite
people flee me with their tidy routine
t r a u m a t i c a l l y busted up
meat flowers devoured
my glutton grows
hungry
Apr 6, 2024
Apr 6, 2024 at 3:25 PM UTC
I watch him eating his dinner
while he digests
it devours him from the inside
the unwelcome guest
they sit together to watch tv
every programme chosen to forget
what no one wants to talk about
the unwelcome guest
he never knew when it moved in
but we're way beyond eviction
they will share that armchair
for the rest of their lives
Feb 8, 2024
Feb 8, 2024 at 2:23 PM UTC
I
He has hands and feet now.
And eyes that can close off the world to such a limited view.
Look at the sun and it is bright,
Even when the sky shifts to his other sight,
That warps the fabric of space into view.
Gravity bends around and around the star burning above,
Trapping his gaze under its twisting fire.
He forces the vision away, blinking
Once and then twice, then thrice while it lingers.
He breathes in and out
Tucks back a strand of hair glowing red even if there wasn’t light.
Humans see the brightness,
The nameless shade slipping through their thoughts
Slithering down their necks, causing the hair to rise.
When it catches his eye,
When he lets it catch his eye
The dying red star, the one he wasn’t finished slurping down,
Glimmers in those strands of hair.
II
Once, a very long time ago yet so recently in his memory,
There was a hole, gaping and black
Not quite as empty as humans like to pretend that they are.
Stars and planets, bits of rock with life clinging to the surface
Sliding down, down, down what was once a mouth.
That’s all, everything he was, only a mouth to devour.
Until—
His hands clench.
His hands, his feet, his eyes
The mouth closed so very tight
Even if past the lips only round little teeth reside and not
A bottomless abyss.
He might be wrong about that, though
Never could quite build the courage to face a mirror and open wide,
To see if that echoless emptiness still waits inside this carbon-construction of a body.
He breathes in and out, feels the air slip into lungs
And out again unlike those stars and planets from so long ago.
How was it? How did he become like this?
During that time when his appetite was vast,
Yet he couldn’t have been larger than a drop of ink on a page.
How did he grow, yet become so contained
That the light can strike off this form and not fall into him forever like it did then.
III
There once was an item of science and a priest of old—
The light, the light that doesn’t fall in like the other rays slips its fingers
Into the maw, pulling its jaw open to the point that it
Cracks and realizes that
Its eating, that’s what it—he is doing
That’s all he’s doing, and he wants more
Not more to eat, but more to existing.
And the light pulls out the half-eaten star,
Weaving the red and the orange and the yellow
Into strands that settle past shaking shoulders.
The memory of what he once was presses down upon him as
He wraps his arms around
Those shoulders that only shiver now
Under the weight of boundaries
That keeps the people walking by from falling into him.
He looks back up
Searching for the light that molded him into this shape.
The sun is too dim though, the rays brushing too weakly against his face
To be whatever god forced him into human limbs.
Aug 8, 2022
Aug 8, 2022 at 9:14 PM UTC
your skin creates peace inside me
creating wrinkles in time
i find myself constantly longing to feel you close
for us to create friction between gravity
our inertia to propel us into voids of pleasure
nothing between us is what i desire
but when you deny me
black holes devour me
crushing my guts into pulp
bleeding me with your rejection
i blend till i am nothing from what i began
May 6, 2021
May 6, 2021 at 10:07 PM UTC
I meant to write about the fire
I swear I did
But you did something clever
And within you hid
As I watch it dance
I see only your hips
As I feel its warmth
I taste only your lips
If you're the fire
Then I'm the wood
That you devour
Just because you could
It's a pleasure to burn
Jan 13, 2021
Jan 13, 2021 at 1:26 PM UTC
night shocked me, again,
as I fell deeper,
and flown out like winds -
it had froze my sanity,
it stole my soul,
and that was the first night
in grief, I drowned,
soaked in night's down pouring -
shivering, shivering,
then, it shocked me again
the night has flickering lights
only to see me devour alive.
Dec 20, 2020
Dec 20, 2020 at 5:34 AM UTC
It takes seconds
For the fire to spread
And it took down
Small towns first
Ripping apart families
Names scattering, fleeing
And we all watch
The media speculated
All the loss history
Displaced heartbeats
And rationalize it
Then it hit cities
Seas of red and orange
Licking and devouring
Neighborhoods
And politicians wanted to blame
Everyone but themselves
When it expanded passed borders
We all went silent
Countries transformed into tattered pages
People swirling around, around
Astronauts said groups looked like storms
Tornados bouncing from land to land
As red slowly spread
Flickering orange
Spreading like a pair of wings
Encompassing the earth
Sep 23, 2020
Sep 23, 2020 at 11:36 PM UTC
Fingertips linger upon skin
I trace my answers
As if my hands are mouths
Tongues lapping at the salt
The sunrise rests upon you
Layers of pink, orange and yellow
Glisten upon your face
And my gaze
Falls into your eyes
Your name
The horizon upon my tongue
And our love, I devour
Slowly eating with every touch
Jul 8, 2020
Jul 8, 2020 at 11:29 PM UTC
Always missing
and I desire
to peel away everything
you have become
and consume it
piece by piece
have it run through my veins
and I will become
everything you once were
Jul 7, 2020
Jul 7, 2020 at 8:35 PM UTC
“You devour my senseless hope in the air as I gobble down the recklessness of the wind, for just a tinge of courage to straighten my wrecked spine.
Drown my worries with your reassuring tears, and dabble in the art of dyeing the truth with bright lively colors to hide the livid and the blackening of your heart.
See me down by the creek with cold feet and ghastly grey eyes. I'll forever abide by the whisper of my lovers alluring empty words and broken promises."
Apr 21, 2020
Apr 21, 2020 at 11:33 AM UTC
a creeping chill throws me cold: the
skies have turn SEPIA AND i completely
utterly melt into each word
birth'd -- this elegie betrays the poet;
a confession unburdens the Spirit -- you
are reading about the me of 'i' have always loved you |mia /i shall meet you again to-now within the theater of my Soul sure, sometimes
i have concern for the world as it continues to devour my Feelings and sensibilities.
when can i love you again?
:: 03.24.2020 ::
Mar 29, 2020
Mar 29, 2020 at 10:37 AM UTC
You think you're better,
Than who you are.
I know you better,
You are an animal.
Wallowing below your instincts.
Down on all fours.
The animal does not feel,
All it knows is survival.
You **** one another,
So one stays above the other.
No different than the animal,
No different form a carnivore.
To devour is survival,
It is how we stay alive.
Down here in the dirt,
Life feeds on other life.
Your belief that you are above your instincts is fauted when the hunger sets in. Reduced to a single thought, survival of the fittest.
You can try to outrun who you are, you won't get very far.
The animal inside you is waiting dormant.
It is always there, and there it will always be.
Mar 14, 2020
Mar 14, 2020 at 6:09 PM UTC
It's a cliche to stare from the window, but I do.
Slipping through time without thinking.
The flowers are indulging the ground with life.
I am not so candid as to tell you why.
Voices ruminate outside my prison.
I wouldn't be so sad if this was the end.
I'm not calling to say I love you or I've moved on.
But that when the knife in my heart twists.
The pain doesn't really move me as it used to.
I might give up, I might give in.
But the calls from another world, they beckon me to"Keep smiling".
Perhaps I never should have reached out.
So here I write and release to the world.
So that the death grip on my soul will be just released a little.
As this poem has seemed to do.
I realize this isn't the ideal scenario, being so torn up about nothing it doesn't reflect on me quite well. But time will march on without me. And the stars will reflect our pie in the sky hopes and dreams. And the knife will stay in my heart to remind me of you and your betrayal all those years ago. And the poison will reach the earth I walk on. And all those nice kind loving things you say, the beauty of it all will one day be lost on me. But for today, thank you for reminding me that I can resist the pain that's meant to make me human. Until the dawn comes, I beg you to sleep. And not look at my face.
Please, don't see my tears. They are only per-cursors to that knife being twisted again. And yet, part of me desires it be twisted again so that I may see just how long it will take before I destroy this thing called "Friendship."
Nov 20, 2019
Nov 20, 2019 at 6:02 PM UTC
the sun rose high in the sky and burned the land beneath it
and i watched a thousand ants
crawling on a butterfly's dying figure
claiming its wings
as it frantically ***** erratic
desperate
but ultimately
devoured.
Nov 18, 2019
Nov 18, 2019 at 6:56 PM UTC
the sun
shines bright
warm hues explode from the center
but the beauty of the sun was so enticing
that the moon wanted to reach out
but as soon as she touched the blazing star
she was burnt
in the same way, i tried to reach out to you
but all you did was burn me
what did i do?
burn alive, in the hope that you would notice me
and you wept next to my ashes as if you cared
if only that was true
Jul 10, 2019
Jul 10, 2019 at 7:37 PM UTC
i sometimes wonder
what i did wrong
perhaps i was too much to handle,
incapable of loving small.
i tie myself wholly
in an act of pure devotion
ready for worship
maybe that's what made you run
but i can't apologise
for wanting a love
that eats me whole.
Jun 26, 2019
Jun 26, 2019 at 2:00 PM UTC