Oh starvation, sweet sister of death,

Avoidance of famine the societal norm,

Continue to fill yourself, until you’ve had enough…

Or perhaps a bit more than enough…

Ingest until you can no longer feel,

Finding comfort underneath layers of accumulation,

Stuff, food, things, objects, people, thoughts…

Layer after layer,

Burden yourself with extremes,

Let go of it all and starve yourself of that which you desire,

That which you deserve,

But the teacher says ‘No!’ and slaps you on the wrist.

You don’t deserve that. You’re not good enough.

Leaving room for bones exposed,

Neutrality of emotions,

a homogenized existence,

Neither up nor down,

right in the middle,

Bland. Alone. Thin. Frail.

Fill yourself up with fear. Starve.

Starve until it becomes normal,

second nature,

and view anything else as an unappreciated luxury,

a cancerous indulgence, a mindless greed.

Become small so you won’t be a part of it.

Be against. Use all your energy…

until an ocean blue vein protrudes from your brow—

insisting you are correct in your way.

The ego agrees, and all is well.

Think yourself into insomnias arms.

She will hold you tight until you

figure it out…


I say starve.

Starve yourself of the weight you’ve been carrying,

Starve yourself of your distracted mind.

Starve yourself of self-criticism and undue judgment.

Starve yourself of your broken past.

Starve yourself of the anger and hate.

Starve yourself of fear and worry.

Starve until there is nothing left.

But emptiness.

Ready to be filled…

with now.





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