Monday, November 30, 2009

Hungry

My muscles are left wondering when they'll be given energy again
when I trick myself into sleeping
so I don't have to listen to my stomach constantly asking me
how insane I am
for not giving it food
useless
my body feels
useless
"If you aren't gonna feed me, then let me rest,"
it says to me

You don't control me.
"Oh yeah? watch this."

*stomach pang*

shit.

You don't control me.

I get up
my vision goes black for a second

Where is it?

I taste stink in my mouth
the stink that my tongue secretes
when nothing but water has washed over it that day
washed over it
in vain

"Food."
You don't control me.

Where the hell is it?

"Just some fricken rice or something. Feed me."

Here.
*flips pages*

"I don't think you understand, I need food."
Shut up.

*still flipping*

"This is a bad idea. Why did you guys want to start this."
Just wait.
"Whatever, you're the one who's gonna be tired all day."
*flipping*
"What is in there that will make this better?"
*flip* *flip* *flip*
"Stop."
Shut up.
"Eat."

Matthew. Where the hell is Matthew. It's the first gospel. Where is Matthew.
Dear Lord, please, silence this voice.

Matthew...Jesus, where are you. In the desert, where are you.

"I need food. Soon."
No, you don't. I don't. Just be quiet. For a second, please.
"I could give up on you, you know. You'd faint. You'd lay there and then people would force you to eat."
I don't need it.
"Eat."
No.
"Elise, eat."
No.
"EAT FOOD"
Here. I found it. I found it, you asshole.


it is written: man does not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God.


*silence*



You. Do not. Control. Me.


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