Fress
Pit
in my
stomach churns.
You always fress,
leaving me broken.
Your black heart consumes me
then spits me back up in chunks.
A meal that’s so nutrient dense,
never leaving room for rich desserts.
I am that feast you just cannot digest.
Copyright © Melani Udaeta | Year Posted 2025
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment