The voices behind my hungry eyes

August 5, 2011

Take a piece and chew it. Replace the food dancing in your head, savor the flavor. It’s better than food. You are better than food. Swallow if you must. Seven years in the stomach is a small price to pay for the nasty, greasy lumps of fat you pile up on yourself. Let it sink into your hollow stomach. Feels good, doesn’t it? Let is absorb the water, soak it up like a sponge. It grows in your belly like weeds of flowers, fairies spin tricks on them, trying to tell you to eat, trying to tell you to leave this dreamland. No. You are stronger. Drink more water. Drown them.

My hungry eyes might speak for themselves someday. But for now the voices behind them are the loud white noise infecting my mind.

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