Gluttony

My fingers burn for getting lost in my throat while my hip weighs on me and I feel a burning in my mind that tells me bad, bad, bad. And it is because of the imbalance of life that leads me to swallow is presented to me. But it is a tiring fight where it would be simpler to give in and burn my existence to the bone because the jeans are cutting the blood and the shirts suffocate.

My body is damaged and broken that has the hole of despair that needs something more and less to survive. I have the mark of my fingerprints on the hip, the pain of inhaling too much and the nightmares that I drown in my capital sin.

My legs wobble, my stomach roars, guilt oppresses me and I am never comfortable and calm. As I will never be at peace in that existence that I have to live with.

T.A.