hunger_pangs raze your mother, squinting out at me from beneath her european countenance, says the steaks will be ready soon. but there are no steaks. all there is for me to eat is whatever's swimming around inside of me. all this churning cream. all these thoughts that circle themselves. sharks with no blood to hunt. i chew on something that isn't there, my jaw a pocket watch with a hinged lid daring me to ignore the stomping of its feet. as if i could stop them from moving if i knew where they might lead me. as if i could follow if i wanted to be led. as if all of this wasn't an elaborate meal meant to leave me wanting. 210906 ... unhinged i try to wait to start eating everyday until my belly actually grumbles for food my heart and skin and brain have other hunger pangs for physical affection that i have a hard time feeding mostly alone 210906 ... kerry at the salvadoran cafe this morning olivia kept glancing down at my plate and furrowing her brow. she looks so "together," with her shining silver nails and black mules, her artfully tousled hair, her denim miniskirt. she has always worn miniskirts. i thought i could smell her perfume. i haven't seen you in nearly two years, i wanted to say. i wish you'd just look at my face. i don't feel hunger pangs often enough. the absence of hunger is not a pleasant feeling or a choice. it is a cavernous space filled with confusion and nausea and shame. the waiter takes my plate and a part of me, a part i so carefully wrapped and tucked away, begins to unravel. i feel unknowable, as though i'm spiraling away from the table. maybe if i run fast enough none of this will have ever happened. 210906 what's it to you? who go blather from