The plants have grown in front of the windows and I can no longer see out of them. I live in the basement. My air purifier is filthy and needs a new filter. There’s photons on the wall but I am no longer the person in them. I live in a basement and I feel like that says something about me as a person. I’m below them, I watch them but I am hidden. They don’t look down to see me. That is okay.

Worms for dinner ! Worms for lunch
Worms wriggle in my red fruit punch

who do you see in the mirror when it is dark ?
behind me lay the women, the girls the girl
I was
In various states of decay.

How long does it last?
the roses wilt and leave, lifeless.
I dry them, beg them, bottle them.
Forever in a heart shaped jar
Forever sits on my alter and gathers dust
Taunts me

I used to be alive.

Mouth open shove in the calories
As fast as I can chew it wipe my face
Guilt
Another chomp I have the biggest waist I have seen
Fat oozing over my pants too big now to even try to hide
Sitting over I feel the rolls I avoid you
But I stare again and again I

happiness eludes me like
a frightened rabbit run rabbit
Run
I leave out lettuce
Truce?
They eat at my table and leave

believe it or not,
my silence bleeds
a pool of almost purple.
it runs down my chin
drips onto the carpet.
you can follow the trail
spelling nothing, nothing
nothing.