The bitter smell of sick,
The resentful pang of hunger,
I am emotionless.
My dead and despaired brain aches,
In the bold and brutal roars of greed,
Yearning for the warmth of sentiment.
I beg for passion and intensity back,
And a prick of sentience too,
Living merely with faith in benevolence,
And an urgency to gratify my howling hunger.
My body rattles in the shrieks of demand,
From the swarms of emotions at my gates,
And valour runs as desperation swells,
Bursting the dam and releasing the horde,
Who strive to brim my vacant and twisted conscience,
Before retribution triumphs absolution.
But my obsession gorges on the flooding feast of emotions,
Leaping from taste to taste,
Love, zeal, desire and lust all pulse through my blood,
As the flavours of life revive me,
And I awake to a horizon of opportunity.
But rage, chaos, bitterness and regret arouse,
As he thrusts and shoves the horde down my throat,
The sickly-sweet love syrup sticks to my gullet.
Tragedy, impotence, pain and abandonment throb,
As I choke on the army of feelings,
And as hopelessness fights its last.
Suicide, kamikaze and martyrdom twinge,
As he overindulges and I pray he stops,
But self-preservation prevails,
Rejecting everything and defining them obsolete.
And the bitter smell of sick returns,
And the resentful pang of hunger rises,
And I am emotionless again.