Content Warning: Please be advised that some of the material in this piece may be disturbing or traumatizing to some readers.
Do mothers know the difference between
eroding and softening?
After bleeding for a month straight,
I only know bleaching and restaining,
And reaching a point
I consider low.
Home economics is wiping shame off
the kitchen counters
With a sticky
dollar,
And turning it inside out,
Clean side facing out,
So it is, without a doubt,
Edible.
Food costs less when hunger is otherwise occupied,
When it’s busy lifting tampons and cold medicine.
Women’s work is a frisk and fleece.
Hope is fat. Rich and fried.
And you’re occupied at least.
Try to palate this life to aliens without
taste buds groomed for doom and gloom.
They don’t assume the burden
of Aiding or Abetting for dignity’s sake.
They don’t kill bugs with a closed fist
To be naked and named on the food chain,
Or paint their nails, so they have nothing ugly to bite,
And make a game out of what feels good in their mouth.
They hunger out loud.
This is the type of boredom we should be embarrassed to talk about.
A lost lust for life isn’t something a steak can fix, and
The spice of life is the body’s best-kept secret.
Trick is, if you can’t sit with yourself,
You can tear off a piece of your own ass and eat it.
Can’t you see that self-cannibalizing isn’t stooping,
it’s conserving? It’s choosing which parts of yourself you can live without.
This!
Is the type of boredom we should be embarassed to talk about.
