Hungry Ghosts

Written by: Annalee Pierce

Truth is, I'm terrified Of the craggy pedestal that I've been Living on That threatens to pitch me into the Salty, ebony sea The rope is there for me to grab To pull me back up to the Shore But do I dare to turn back now? Do I dare to go so far? I pity the buds that, In spring, were once in full bloom Were lush enough to nurture At least, if need be Now the pair have regressed to baby Bubbles resting on my chest Shiny, but with childish luster only Innocent Yet too much so in age I thrive on the hollow pride That drags along my hollow stomach I flourish underneath the truth Of my demise In my disease, I become comfortable Skin just right and not too Stretched Too tired to drag on but thus content I am haunted by the thought Of ever being fed