#1 glazed

i have a broken relationship with confection

the sugar that surrounds a piece of fried dough

forged beneath the heat of distant flame

you can watch

behind a pane of glass

face so close to the surface

your breath fogs the pane and

you see yourself there, reflected in the window

like some uninhibited beast

longing for the very vice that will undoubtedly

bring your demise.

i need to remember this is about me

but it feels so much more appropriate to distance myself

from the things i know hurt me

i tell myself,

it’s better this way

better if i shove everything down until i vomit up bits of glaze

parts of myself that refuse to stay hidden

those disgusting little bits of me that seek out my own destruction

through consumption.