Anorexic
All I can do is sit and stare.
All I can hear is the clanking of silverware and people chewing...
people enjoying.
My teeth grind back and forth...my jaw begins to hurt although I've been given
nothing.
My tongue wrestles with the tasteless air,
and I pretend it's something.
My hands are permanently glued to the table,
with my fingernails stuck deeply in its wood.
My face looks emaciated
with my cheeks sunken into its skeletal frame.
I even FEEL worse than I look.
I guess I can't hide it afterall.
I sit here and stare...at all of you.
Wondering how I got pushed so far away from the table.
It looks so good...what you are devouring.
You tell me it is
which makes me want it even more.
Oh, but I've had a taste before,
it just turned so sour that I can't seem to taste anymore.
So, I just sit here and wonder when it'll be my turn.
My turn to lick my plate and taste the fulfillment that all of you do.
But until then, I guess I'll stay here with a napkin in my lap, silverware in my
hands...
and an empty plate.
My eyes will just continue to stalk yours-
those plates heaping full of love-
the serving I just can't seem to ever receive.
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