See Your arms
scared from
old cuts
and
your hips and belly
red from new once.

You have stared death right in the eye
but
never really
felt its claws
clench you.
Still you stink of rotting flesh.

When it's not enough, What do you do then?
You tried to starve, you tried to eat.
To no use....

Then you remember
that day after
that box of
that red wine.

The chunks. The much.
That disgusting consistency.
It felt good. It felt free.
Like Giveing death a deepthroated blowjob.
And the world was no longer spinning.

Nausea.
It eats you. Fills you up. Pours over.
With a little help.
From two or three.