My destructive thoughts always led me to the pantry. My constant “hunger” led me to the fridge to find whatever sweet, fatty disgusting food I could use to punish and gorge myself, and numb myself.

Numb myself to how I really felt about myself and my life.

I was sneaky. I would eat in secret so no one would know my disgusting and punishing habit.

My hunger was not really hunger. It was my way of ignoring what was going on inside of me. Ignoring my needs, my wants and my desires.

Listening to my demons instead of my heart.

Listen. Learn. Love.

A sensation moves around and around
A growling and roaring that makes no sound

When it settles in place I know I have a reason
To open the door and release all the demons

Each demon is loaded with trauma and turmoil
They encourage the comfort each place brings me internal

Once the gluttony is over and my belly is crammed
Self-loathing begins a new dance with the demons I’ve damned

Hunger is attached to every one of those demons
They live within me controlling what is already weakened

You see the hunger comes from so many different places
But I cannot get to any of them, I am stuck to this one awful location

So the hunger takes me over, time and time again
Toward the door where the demons are momentarily content

Many a minute I resolve never to open the door
I want to be strong, not be this way anymore

Innumerable amounts of want and desire
Show themselves to me leaving me feeling quite dire

How do I acknowledge them all
When the me that I am is so insignificant and small

It’s that door that I see in front of me always
Once its opened it destroys hope of much brighter days

There I stay at the door hunger gnawing me to death
I guess what’s inside will take away my last breath

No such life anyhow, to be controlled by these two
The door and the demons together they work as I slowly undo

Every morsel of food I use to appease my hunger
Only hardens me more, the undoing slipping me under

There’s no point wanting so much more for my life
The want is forbidden. Those demons cut it from me with their knife

Desire is deflected, its not allowed to remain
The door draws me forth, there is no restrain

The hunger does not bring me what I truly want
Only pain for me, it’s all I’ve ever got

I can’t say the word, so alien an experience
The lack of its presence leaves me madly moody and serious

Therefore the demons linger on the edge of my hunger
Aggressively shoving me to the door of my plunder

I fall down to my knees ashamed and alone
Fingers tight on the handle, door opening to home

Raising Love
Listen. Learn. Love

This book came to be from every part of my life experience. Every heartache. Every hateful thought. Every self-loathing feeling. And, every bit of love that I denied to myself. In reading the words on these pages, my hope is you, too, recognise some parts of yourself and realise there is so much more to who you are than what you believe. Be open to what may come to you whilst you are absorbed in the heartache, the loneliness, the sadness, the misery, the hope, the reflection, the spirit and the love in this collection of poems and short stories.

Buy the Book Here

Use the button below to read and watch more poems about the love/hate/hate relationship I have had with myself and my body over the last few decades of my life.

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