Hunger.

I am hungry.

Hungry for love.

Starved of love.

At arms length from a table full of love, piled high on plentiful platters.

I have bounds of love to feed other people, but no one to share it with.

No plates to polish clean.

No food fights to intervene.

No memories shared.

No feelings felt or supported.

No feelings heard.

No discussion.

Just wonder.

I’m trying to unlearn the 20+ years of training my brain to release rivers of dopamine at the sensation of hunger inside me.

It is addictive.

Dangerous.

I am starving for love.

I am starving for why?

I have to learn to love myself.

But I don’t know how.

But I’m fighting every single day for comfort and satiation in autonomy.

I will get there.

For I am satiated in myself.

I know who I am and what I need.

I have love to offer indefinitely.

I have peace in my heart and soul.

I am strong.

I am poorly in body as I write this.

I am alone at my own table.

But with love in my heart to give.

My children’s names tattooed upon my barbed wire caged heart.

Roses and thorns abloom.

The blood pumping through my veins is pure.

I am strong.

X