The season that sunk my self-worth. Touring
spider-webbed streets in the sweltering summer sun.
Felt faint as I stared at the Eiffel’s stairs.
Picked my days provision from a street vendor’s collection of reds, yellows, and greens sprawled out like a feast of freshness.
Sinking my lips into a plump peach,
its tender flesh fell into my mouth,
sweetness drizzled down my throat
as I took a drink of its juices.
Strolled the Avenues of Amsterdam, smoking sticky green.
Pulling up a chair at the corner coffee shop to choose from a menu of vibrant bud to make the day
drift down
the drain.
I popped a pill and morphed into a monster while trying to resist the munchies making their way through my mind.
My nose found a falafel shop standing in the side of a building.
To stop the food from spreading to my hips I stuck my fingers down my throat. For the first time — Flushed a whirlwind of feelings down with lunch.
Kilograms came up. Melting
into the metal scale. Trying to decipher where I stood.
Heart stuttering from the speed in my system, as the leaves lost their lives.
Petrified that fat was dripping over my jeans
and my tree trunk thighs would ignite.
Attempted to hold my head high above the weaklings
as I ran, climbed my way toward sick —
With a steady
stream of
sweat
pouring
down
my forehead.
