HUNGER
My teeth have begun to fall out, dear God my hands are gripping the
dirty bathroom sink and a toothless grin smiles back at me, dig deeper
it says but I have claw marks on my arms and skin under my fingernails.
In the other version, when you ask me to give her to you —I won’t.
Clutched tightly in my arms, I’ll pull her closer and closer until there is
nothing left.
Next time, when you reach your hands out, palms empty with longing
I will know there’s nothing more deceiving than an offer of more.
Wrapped so sweetly in that soft new skin I mistook her for a gift
you’re never supposed to give.
I didn’t know, that to want is to loathe, hunger begets hunger
and my teeth, dear God, they’re falling out and now all I’m left with
are rotten lips that say yes when they mean no,
and dig a little deeper it says so I do.