Forgive my sick

Not sure what I would do
if I still had to travel
far to see the moon and stars.
Sometimes I think God forgets you
in steel and glass lives.
Sees me better when I can see It.

Food pinched in fingers seems
to weigh pounds lately.
And sticks to my insides like
gum under a desk. Drags on my
skeleton like its own animal.
But stars take me as I am.
See me as light and unsaturated
when I feel I might be a magnet
to the world.
And while I have no sin quite like
painful vanity
and a minefield body,
the shrapnel of that life is impossibly

Am so concerned with consuming yet I eat myself alive.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s