The Spot

I felt like binging last night. I wrote this poem about it.


The Spot
VH Melville
Misery princess
Freckled skin hidden beneath her veiled crown
People finally tell me I am beautiful now that I am awake
Alive again
Once protected in a tower of fat
With a scab blob where a heart should be
In a glass coffin, Asleep
Will you be my prince, always?
Even when I stand here in the empty spot
I keep filling up with food that rots instead of nourishes
You are the spot beneath my skin that believes in me
The better part of me
The fairy tale goddess yet to come