The Fork
food isn’t seen as fuel and nourishment, food is seen as guilt and shame
your bones wear thin and your hair falls out in clumps
you see your ribs when you lift up your shirt and you feel your hipbones stick out whenever your boney fingers are placed on them.
your throat is sore from the acid and the vomit flowing through you
your family know they should hide away the knifes and the blades
but what’s worse is that they’re scared you’re hurting so badly you might even harm yourself with a fork
but isn’t that what you’ve been doing all along?
you put down the fork... and haven’t picked it up since
-unKnown Person
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
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
