I hate this part, stomach pushed
Into the sink as I peer into the mirror.
Face avoidant.
Storm brewing in eyes,
Like a cocktail being stirred,
Hear the screams rattling, contortions, every microtick and pinch.
Shut the lid a little tighter.
Give it a stir.
Bodaciously Black, Slayer of Synonyms and Soliloquies
1 thought on “Gnawing”