God, I love to eat. To consume, to devour, whatever you call it. To eat is my true passion, my calling in life, so much so that my teeth grind together when I am not currently chewing on food as though they are practicing for the big moment.

My favorite foods? How much time do you have? There’s pizza with the cheese wet and dripping, donuts all stickiness and sugar, slurpy spaghetti crowned by tender meatballs, ice cream so cold and sweet your teeth ache, hamburgers so juicy they make your chin moist, cookies warm from the oven or frozen, doesn’t matter to me- I adore them all.

In case you haven’t noticed, my love of food, of eating food, is borderline obsessive. I am, in a way, a stalker of food. If I see a particularly plump pastry in a display, you bet I’m going to stare at it creepily, drooling all the while.

My family, my friends, they’ve all expressed their concerns, and I’ve heard them. Doesn’t mean I’ve listened to them, though. For you see, people will talk back to you, nag you, insult you, hurt you, but food knows when to shut its mouth. Food knows when to just let you enjoy.

Food has had been there for me since the beginning, and it will be there for me at the end at my very last meal. I don’t know if I can say the same about anyone or anything else.

You tell me I should rein it in

Sorry, but I refuse

Yes, I may be dramatic

What's wrong if I so choose

To blow up every now and then?

So if I light the fuse

If I were you, I'd walk away

Sorry, but you lose

- to my father

You've taken my heart

Made it into art

Your glitter glows green

And purple and it's sheen

Shines golden and blue

And it might blind you

You put glitter in my heart instead of love 

It's messy and shiny and hard to get rid of 

But then, why would I want to? 

It's just like you

I doused it in drink 

Washed it in the sink

But the glitter's still there 

I've enough to spare

But I'll let it stay

If you don't go away

Stars are funny things

As pretty as they are, they

Can hurt just as much

When you love a star

You can look but cannot touch

Or you'll burn alive

It is up to you

Die for the star that you love

Or just die alone

The place I call home

Is crumbling around my feet

Where do I go now?

Do I dare to stay?

Some say that we have no choice

But my mind's been made

I'll breathe in the ash

With my very last breath and

Let it bury me

I was born here

And my children were born here

Now it is our grave

We'll die, hands entwined,

Eyes towards a blood-red sky

Screams filling the air

We will die at home,

The place where we learned to live

Our burial ground

Let the others run

Our feet are firmly planted

We are not afraid

when you fall

out of love

where do you fall?

into hate?

despair?

happiness

or hope?

as for me

i just want to fall

into nothing

and keep falling

forever

I wish life had a fast-forward button

I'd skip from this insecurity, this monotony, this passionless drudge

to the loving spouse, the golden children, the flourishing jet-set career

they say I'll miss this part

nostalgia whispers it in their ear and they shout it at me

"you're wrong" I shout loudest of all

"because I know I was unhappy as a child and I know I am unhappy now"

I wish that I could skip ahead to my favorite scene of life

but what if that scene

doesn't exist?

I don't know Silence

Maybe she is in my head

Mingling with my friends

First there is Passion

And then Imagination 

They're my favorites 

Neuroses and Fear

I don't like them as much but

They seem to like me

My friends are chatty

Imagination rhymes, while

Fear and Passion shout

Neuroses predicts 

The future- too bad she is 

Not always correct 

I don't know Silence 

Perhaps she's in a corner

Waiting to be heard 

They all come to hear

Her miraculous belting

She hates when they leave

In her dressing room 

Later that night, no one comes

To hear her sobbing 

Her dear audience-

She feels she hasn't earned their

Thunderous applause

Once she used to dream

Of the life she now lives- turns

Out it's a nightmare 

Her voice has gone hoarse

Will she be able to sing

As well the next night?

She can, and she does 

The audience stands, cheers, claps 

She holds in a tear