Fruit. Bread. Ash. Salt. Nooo. Nothing fills me. Raw meat. Cooked meat. Live meat. Dead meat. …nothing. Something turns inside. It eats. It eats. Not me. I am not!. You, bring me something. Bring me more. More… more… more. Mouth full, belly hollow, More!. Wine won’t quiet me. Fire won’t quiet me. Fruit is ash, fish is mud. Bread screams, milk bleeds, flowers rot under my gaze. Womb. Root. Core. Grave. Hear the voices, hear my scream, hear inside, inside, Inside You do not sleep. You do not stop. You do not end. You crawl where none should crawl. You bring me what I cannot name. Eyes. Eyes. Still warm. Still seeing me. Swallow Swallow. Yes. Yes. Yes. Now hush. Now sleep. Now…feed. Now there is calm.
