Leftovers

Leftovers

A Poem by Starfruitanimal

Here I am settling,

Embezzlement to every friend ,

Inheriting,

The lost art of lying,

still you keep trying .

To lift this heavy heart as if though I kept crying.

But if I’d cry I’d make a reservoir;

With children’s cries and razor sores.

But here I am settling can’t even taste the meat,

Why do I continue to

Reheat the food and eat.

 

 

I got leftovers man and their getting cold.

I’ll have a microwave please to reheat my soul.

Stale cooped up in cabinets,

Appetite is murderous,

Hungry for the rest of us,

9/11 dangerous.

I don’t think I can adjust to this moldy bread.

Like the satiable demons inside my head.

And this meat is has no taste,

In a state of dismay I prey.

On another day I’ll find a way

To think exactly what I want to say.

But I’ve got no balls, only a p***y.

That cat is pissed and will feed angrily.

I got claws to tear through all of these bags,

Armed and ready

To find food

That hasn’t gone bad.

But is that whack?

C’mon man where’s that microwave?

It’s been years of stockpiling this food I saved.

I’m a hoarder of sorts,

You see I’m highly alert,

To give this bottle a slerp,

And clench my teeth till they hurt.

But it seems I’ve become unsigned to my own record label.

And this s***s been piling up underneath the table.

Got food poisoning again,

Goin back to this loony bin,

Choking on oxygen,

Scribbling stick figures with my pen.

Cus my claws haven’t got quite long enough to find,

That piece of nourishment I feel like I need inside.

And vitamin D, necessary.

Autopsy, necessary.

Atrophy, painful.

Selfishness, shameful.

And I’m tired of searching for these bags.

I guess I’ll settle for what I wish I had.

But my body tells me something different,

Life or death,

With every breath.

Wish it was a joke. But it isn’t.

 

Haah it’s a joke,

Tie these dramas with a rope,.

Sprinkle glitter on top,

And keep tight in your spot.

 

And laugh b***h.

Whether you like that s**t or not.

© 2012 Starfruitanimal


My Review

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Featured Review

i loved the beginning, andit had a very nice flow towards the beginning but it got lost around the middle. i like the word choice .
"I got leftovers man and their getting cold.
I’ll have a microwave please to reheat my soul.
Stale cooped up in cabinets,
Appetite is murderous,
Hungry for the rest of us,
9/11 dangerous."
my favorite lines. over all still a great poem.

Posted 11 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Starfruitanimal

11 Years Ago

thank you . so much.



Reviews

haha loved the last two paragraphs
its a great write, great ryhthm, flow and structure!
thanxx for sharing

Posted 11 Years Ago


Starfruitanimal

11 Years Ago

thankyou for commenting !
Appetites hurt, but they give life worth. Maybe if I went to church, and gave myself a second birth, I could stop wanting and needing and live in mirth. But for now Ill take my hunger with the pain of hunting.

Posted 11 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Starfruitanimal

11 Years Ago

great flow .keep kickin it with words every single time your heard :)
i loved the beginning, andit had a very nice flow towards the beginning but it got lost around the middle. i like the word choice .
"I got leftovers man and their getting cold.
I’ll have a microwave please to reheat my soul.
Stale cooped up in cabinets,
Appetite is murderous,
Hungry for the rest of us,
9/11 dangerous."
my favorite lines. over all still a great poem.

Posted 11 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Starfruitanimal

11 Years Ago

thank you . so much.

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3 Reviews
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Added on December 11, 2012
Last Updated on December 11, 2012
Tags: leftovers, food, drink, atrophy, disorder, bags, microwave, anger

Author

Starfruitanimal
Starfruitanimal

Wethersfield, CT



About
"Oh charity, clarity, honesty excitement The one with class, falsely accused, misconstrued Anger, sorrow, pact, machinary, decisions Collisions, instant gratification Thinking about you programmed.. more..

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