A new entry/poem

[heidibabe]

Masticate. Munch… Mum…

Rain; pouring.
Drenching
every inch of
my ill-favored insides.

I need something to
fill me up:
Six
baby
carrots,
slice of bread,
half cup of
orange juice.

No mater
what I digest, or don,t,
the rain only
palliates my pang.

I need scent of my source.
My own arms can,t
cradle me so-
unhurriedly.
I weep.

My own hands can,t
calm
my frustrated hair, can not
smooth
my bumped skin- like yours do.

So tomorrow
I will attack less
baby
carrots,
bread,
and juice.
To make more room for
the rain
to absorb into my
tired cavity.

Masticate.
Munch.
Mum… Muuther...