Eat Gold
December 18th, 2018

Unplug the fridge because it’s vacant,
and it working would be wasteful.
I’ll fill it-
after gathering all 
required texts.
Heavy breaths slurring
scholarly quotes:
I’m either enlightened or light-headed.
I diluted life down to expression.
Am I delirious due to this discourse?
I just left the store, though: 
did I get what I need? No.
It wasn’t for free, so
I’m a-try to eat gold.
Ain’t easy freezing in the heat.
Three readings: no meals.
Mind over body.
Crop top: ribs showing;
new tat: messed up;
non-essential-obsessed.
I’m no picture of health when I only symbolize it:
vitalizing myself as well as an empty water bottle
after sweating away rushed faucet chugs
which let the poisonous effects of my metals and inks be known:
to survive, I was told, all I needed to do was think.  
Rationality had me believing
I’m drowning in the dry 
and sinking in solids.
There’s no
where to next
in between tests
if I’m starving to prepare.
Meeting my maker has turned into research:
to see if it embodies any of our best guesses.
Flipping pages can only open doors up to
the inedible, I mean,
the inevitable, as in
the ending.

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