Words Of a Feather

It comes time and time again every day

Shackles to the fridge and the pantry

Gazing not upon death, but a lack of life

Unwaveringly apathetic towards my next meal

The human need to consume daily

Contrasts the heart’s rejection

No longer do I desire to consume the same meals

Yet without them, I will fade away

So I stay chained to the kitchen until my demise

And take the first of many, many bites

Filling my stomach and draining my soul