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.