We Are What We Eat

If we are what we eat,

Then I'd consume death

I would take it into my hands like a delicacy

And lick the crumbs from my fingertips

Its residue would shine on my lips

As I smack them together, content.

If we are what we eat,

Then I have feasted on agony

Devoured pain like it would disappear

And sunk into uncomfortable slumber

Digesting it is a task, it tears away at my insides

Forming me anew.

If we are what we eat,

I dream of the taste of wishes

Like glitter decanted in darkness,

A last hope in a lost moment.

The lingering note of desperation

As it teeters between ripened and despair.

If we are what we eat,

Then I would swallow the world just to know it.

Gorge myself on landscapes and

Spend an age picking the mountains from my teeth.

I would cry the oceans and rivers the

Forests would curl in strands to my feet.

If we are what we eat,

Then I've starved myself on questions.

Rationed hatred by the handful

And paired it with disdain

I've tried drowning myself in feelings

But have purged them all as well.

If we are what we eat,

Then I have misplaced the menu

Each course lost behind my lips

Only to fade into obscurity

Until I become nothing more

Than the anticipation of my next bite.