This is a familiar feeling…emptiness.
Unsatisfied, sickly, writhing.
My stomach twists, turns, and ties in knots.
Every glance brings more agony.
Mad at myself that this is happening.
The foreshadowing finally fulfilled.
I kept trying for some reason.
It is not my time or season.
In due time…in due time.
The pain over powers my hunger, and I am starving.
There are so many things I desire.
Love, attention, affection, oh to be whole.
I am only half.
None of these things feeding me.
I don’t want to know.
I’d rather go on, so forth and so on.
No one will mistreat me.
Defeat me? An impossibility!
It will not happen.
I will not give in easily.
I am free to be as defiant as I’d like.
You cannot hurt me, bruise me or break me.
You will never make me or take me.
So leave me be.
I cannot be satisfied. I realize.