Maw | Penelope Steiss
A long time ago I laid myself down
To split myself open with a scalpel.
Upon performing my own vivisection,
I found such a curious thing about my anatomy.
That in place of a heart, I had a gaping maw.
A mouth that went on forever,
Beyond the limits of my form,
Rows and rows of teeth and,
Worst of all, it is so hungry.
Impossibly hungry.
Nothing satisfies it.
Though I would try anything.
Pills and powders,
Wine and revenge,
Self mutilation and masturbation, one and the same really,
Nothing, nothing, nothing.
It is so hungry and I feel I will die if it is not fed.
I can go days without eating,
I will fast until I struggle to stand
And I will be thankful for the privilege,
But to neglect the maw feels like real, true death.
I look at you, and I am so hungry.
So hungry I could just die.
Penelope Steiss is a Schizotypal poet, author and folklorist, who lives between a swamp in Florida and a forest in Sweden, but can most commonly be found on instagram @ AntlerandFoxtail.