Thursday, May 3, 2012

"Hunger"

I am alone.

My family has disowned me (yet they keep coming to visit for some reason, just to fling more insults), I no longer have friends. I am locked in a cell.

It is a large cell, certainly, but they taunt me with a long table full of empty plates and platters.

I have been here for over a week now. I will soon die. The door is locked and no one will open it. My father and my wife point and laugh when I call for their help.

My ribs are showing; I am going to die of starvation.

I've tried eating this grey stuff on the walls, but it tastes bad.

It has begun to grow on my skin.

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