- Feeding You -

You walked in

emaciated.
You said you were hungry
for love
and my cabinets were full.
So, I fed you.
I made meals out of my hopes,
taking bite-sized portions
of age-old dreams
and served them to you
on a platter made from
hands destined to satiate you.
You ate every bite,
smiled, and said
"Give me more."
So, I severed pieces of myself
and steeped a stew
of hugs and kisses.
You lapped it up,
frowned, and said
that it wasn't enough.
So, I cut my bone to
make a spoon for you
to drink my soul.
You licked the bowl
and complained about
the shape of the spoon.
You walked out
plump
saying you were full
of hate
but now my cabinets are empty
and I'm starving.