Writing Prompt

His heart was hungry. Starving for a satisfying love. Malnourished for years with tightropes and earthquakes. He never got his bearings.

Swimming in a sea of endless heartache. Drowning with desire of something real.

Most people understand hunger as a lack of food Of an emptiness A hole inside you you long to fill

But it’s not

It’s a constant clawing Digging deep always

Ripping flesh Tearing me apart second by

ticking

second

It’s not empty It’s full

full of pain and suffering

Something that will never never end

Even if i get out of this place

I will always be hungry Always be dying

The monster stirs somewhere beneath the sand. Gritty grains roll over warty, jerky-dry skin with every guttural groan of restlessness. Of thirst. Of hunger. Of loneliness. Many suns have passed since, each one rising to unleash wraith on the dunes. Burning rays stab down, a death stare fixing upon eternity. Hot headed and cold hearted. The monster simply crouches there, roasting alive in an oven of desert. It is a small thing, squat and stubby-legged, like a distant cousin of a toad. Its diet, however, scales far beyond bugs. One thing certain of deserts is their harsh and unforgiving nature. So this creature adapted. It eats whatever it can get. Size is of minimal concern. Its great jaw unhinges with the force of a spring-loaded mouse trap, enveloping prey easily. Like the great fly trap of Venus, acid eats away at unfortunate wanderers of its territory, swallowed whole. The good news is, one such specimen is usually enough to fulfill the demands of its stomach for a good fortnight or so. Yet many more suns have cycled than this length, and not a soul has come through. Another broken, lilting caterwaul of a grunt courses through its beaten body. It would be better to perish than to barely hang on to these lifeless days of living. It would welcome death if it could. Is it a monster or a weary spirit— tumbled like sea glass; too-far steeped in the tea of time.

When every piece of chocolate hurts, When every choice is about numbers, When mirrors are the enemies, You’re starving.

When makeup hides the darkened skin, When bones are sticking through the fabric, When you’re “too much” and “not enough”, You’re dying.

When going out feels like a chore, When all the eyes seem to inspect you, When water weighs and air abrades, You’re breaking.

Malnourished - screams the body! Malnourished - cries the soul! Malnourished - when you’re falling! Malnourished - Where’s the Love?

Surprised that we’re still hungry, We take another sip. This cup of hate tastes better with guilt inside and sorrow.

But, when you, finally, spit the venom, You’re healing.

morning has broken But not a word spoken Eye to eye Intensity prevails Yet still a mask and vail

A night of hope And endless desire Yet such blank stares Despite all that transpired

A moment of lust A glimpse of love Was that brief moment A weakness or something from above

So complicated Yet plain No one could explain But us

But you do not care, You couldn’t be bothered, nor the least bit concerned. You didn’t even stay as I was forced beneath the dirt. The dirt that you walk on and spit at with your tongue, Just like you walked all over me and everyone in this family.

No, you may say you’re sorry and that you seek forgiveness. But the things you have done — we will ALWAYS be restless. Rid us of pain and of all of our sorrows, Your hands are a venom that we cannot swallow. Our throats close with the swelling of your problems.

My body still rests in that field of wheat, Where you left me rotting — DEAD, and my mother to weep. You sit atop your throat, your crown heavy and bruising. While your damn wife lays on the ground, unconscious and bleeding.

You’re a horrible man, and I hope that you know, The things that you did, they were lower than low. My mother and sister? No, they will never heal, I, your only son, will always know how it feels. How it feels to be nauseous and reeling with pain.

The pain that you brought, your heavy fists reign. I will not forgive you, YOU WILL KNOW MY NAME.

My name is heavy and like an iron cage, I will haunt you for the rest of your damn days. You will never know happiness, not again in this lifetime. I am no longer a boy, father — too gruesome is my crime.

Oh how I long for someone to hold me To tell me I am loved Oh how I yearn for no one to scold me But to be told I am loved I need the attention The affection The serinity of love

…

🫀

Touch Hold Hold myself to feel anything To feel as if someone else is here I miss the days when someone was there Near me With me The graze of a hand On my shoulder On the small of my back Fingers intertwined I’m dying for it all To feel again To feel the desire To be wanted by another Even if for a small fraction of a second But things have changed I’m like an animal Or a child Dying for someone to notice To fill my cup To give me what I’ve been craving For so long For nourishment For human contact For acknowledgment

I am over this, Being fed this grief. I wish I am this, I want this numb to be a thief.

I am stuck with this, Spoon fed loved one’s passings. Turn my heart into chrysalis, So my soul can hold these stings.

I feel it spilling out, my eyes and mouth. Losing my ability to shout, Everything going south.

These shoulders bear all, Until death wishes to call. I hold onto her at this ball, Dancing till we all fall.

/

Love and miss you R

…

I hate this feeling, but sharing it helps, thank you.

…

🖤

Inhaling all of you, My lungs full. This stomach dull, My heart still oh so blue.

These eyes see nothing else, My hands without. This soul devout, My heart still on the shelf.

These scars miss your touch, My mouth whistles your voice. This boy with no choice, My heart can no longer vouch.

This body now at rest, My chest heavy. These eyes all teary. Goodnight to all you could attest.

/

Love you R

…

Rest in peace uncle, our hearts broken.

…

🖤