it’s all just a losing game, I think.
some days are sunny, and you’ve been
tossed some marrow as an offering to
make up for lost time or
what’s been lost before,
but it doesn’t last more than a moment.

it’s like eating grass or some leaves that have fallen
yet you’re a carnivore and you always have been.
one meal—
finally,
and you’re full for now.
but come tomorrow or the next,
and the hunger’s back because
it was never enough
it never has been.

Reagan Fleming