Bulimia
Sin of impulse
A moments pleasure
To dive for pearls, a far deep
treasure
of the mind and senses
Keep going, can't stop,
binge and lose all pretences
of self control.
Drowning out or off the rails,
whatever does it matter when the consequence is
the same.
Spare me guilt of moments past
Of rising up a burning shame
Impulse, apparently, has ability to last
Claw the demons within my guts,
writhing, turning, restless,
drag them out of my throat and stomach,
burning hot an acidic taste.
Again and again, remove my sin, please God no,
not again, desperation is my only friend.
This is bulimia, a mistake erased.
Until the cycle repeats
A moderate defeat.
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