I eat my feelings.
They come with a pinch, or several pinches of salt,
sometimes sugar,
insisting that it can cure the thudding tears,
a donut,
though I am not hungry,
I actually just ate from the silent boredom
which told me to do so before,
but this time I will be fixed, if I devour its sweetness,
my heart break cured.
But when I look at what is meant to be my reflection,
A girl two sizes too big for her size ten skinnies,
Wondering why,
the tears come flooding back.
They say,
Time for another donut