Your Baby


ago
1 min
31
readings
2 votes
In competition
Image of 2020

I swallow your words like baby food.


They’re smooth,


and they should make me feel whole,


like bodies being pressed together,


sweat amalgamating sweat,


skin gliding skin,


yet they still have the griminess of


processed foods and facades.


 


I want to rinse my mouth


to forget your taste,


but I obsess being spoon-fed your lies


in order to quell my hunger


for something more,


a truth more digestible.


 


I clench the spoon


that you've graciously offered me,


and I hold in my choke. 


 


Lips agape, 


but nothing comes out.


Your voice interrupts me—


 


 

In competition

2 votes

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