walls and floors
CN: Food/ Eating
in this world of walls and floors I
open my face to sunlight in the
morning through the upstairs
window of what we now call an
office
I am not looking for praise or
meaning just some meaning more
than going through motions than
feeling each fold of skin on my body
than waiting for nothing
jealousy clogs my pores it really
drips like a watered-down vinaigrette
I want to feel sand between my toes
I want to scream into a paper bag
and for it to insulate the sound
the food I eat sticks to my gums like
flour once I’ve seen it it’s hard to
bring it to my mouth but I force my
hands and stick it out bear it stick it
stick bear stick
it’s boring how much I want to be
held like an apple in a wicker basket
hot from the sun to just sit and not
think to just be to just hold
by Cara Dromgoole, a student living in London.