I open my mouth,
put in comfort.

(As if sadness could be satiated).

Breached anticipation,
The first moment of pleasure,

This is the repeat addiction.

I am weak, 
I have no control,

Cede to the pleasure.

What have I done?
It’s too late.

Mouth quickly filled.

I take it all,
A frenzied banquet,

Disgusting performance.

I put more inside,
deny the discomfort.

Self possessed.

I’m nearing the end of
this hidden humiliation.

I am weak.

It is almost time
To regain control.

Assume the position.

My finger strokes my palate.
Moment of breached regurgitation, and then,

Mouth quickly fills.

I find success in sinuses burning
with unmasticated food acid.

Conjunctival vessels rupture.

Brief pause as I gasp.
then again taste two vomit coated fingers.

Striving for the mark of culmination.

Blood, green bile, then nothing.
I’ve done it.

I am weak, no,

I am in control.
Euphoric emptiness lifts my humiliation.

My sadness satiated.

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