I was eating spaghetti today and it promoted me to write about it as you do. But look deeper the layers of thought of an eating disorder that crops up. i will promise one day I will write a lighthearted poem with no dark undertones.
Sometimes spaghetti can be quite charming,
squealing around the plate at me,
maybe because I have a weakness,
but I would rather have a carb then a hamburger,
any old day of the week is fine by me.
In the mist of my hazy love affair,
where my emotions and food are complex,
that I feel perplexed to understand my weakness,
for all things gluttony .
Even though it at times makes me squeal with delight,
I will always struggle with being weak,
it will catch me when I am desperate,
for the love of food can not be matched,
to any other relationship,
that is manifested with hate and love.
Cheers for reading X