Hunger

I have to eat enough. I opened up everything. Give them a patch of lawn. Or maybe a toast. The first thing I learned. Inside of cooked shopping trips. Could be a cookie on the sidewalk. But then they would hurt. Shoes are the ones who feel. Flopping over. I have to eat more. The monster is the one who is weirdly smudged. They told me the dirt lives in this small house. So do they. I have to eat pieces. Underneath. They left me a snack. A dirty plate with crumbs. Eating crumbs as old as this place. They told me I ate enough. I almost agreed.