how heavy is your heart today?
the same weight of a red inked paper.
TWO.
glutton.
my mother calls
and asks
if i have eaten yet
i say no.
my stomach was honest,
left with no trace
of any cafeteria food,
take out or the sad excuse of
a meal i would make with
a shared microwave.
but as i end the call
i ponder why i had lied.
i seem to not have the strength
to admit to my
gluttony.
some nights i indulge myself
in the bitter tastes of
low marks.
the gritted flavor of
red ink on
folder paper.
the tiring blue light
of a lecture screen.
and the mouth filling
words of my college
math text book.
the truth was,
my tongue missed
the warmth of home cooked meals,
but my teeth wished to chew
on a good future.
YOU ARE READING
hold my heart.
Poesíawill you hold my heart? rini's heart could one day weigh of gold the rock solid material gravitating your shoulders low, or the next, weigh of feathers because her touch was nearly alike.
