CopingĀ 

Eyes darted back and forth, like a hungry squirrel, she snatched the cookie off the ground and cramed it into her mouth. She relishes the moment until a devistating swallow marks the end of her salivary soothing. The guilt is overwheming and she starts down the hall. 

Finding a bathroom, she checks the stalls to make sure she is alone and proceeds to stroke the back of her throat with two wet fingers. With a cough and a gasp for air, cookie crumb vomit and whole noodles (leftovers she found at 6 am) flow out of her. Hitting the porcelain pool, water splashes back onto her face and hair, like a bullies spit.  

Exiting the stall, she glimpses her red conjunctivia in the mirror before jumping into action. Scrubbing her face and arms with wet soapy paper towels, she attempts to rid the bile stench. She wipes her hair the best she can and then ties the dirty mess on top of her head. When was the last time she showered?

“One last thing,” she thinks, “and then I can face them.”

Out of her coat pocket she takes a small bottle of stolen Adderall which she had previously crushed, just for this occasion. It keeps her alert, helps her focus, and suppresses her appetite. Sprinkling it on the dry porcelain sink, she grabs a straw from her other pocket, places it into a raw nostril and inhales the coarse powder. 

She hears footsteps and the bathroom door opens; simultaneously she drops the straw on the floor kicking it to the side and sweeps the remaining powder off the sink. She faces the sink to hide her red eyes.

“Doctor?” says the young nursing assistant. “They are ready for you.”

-LRose

Hiding usĀ 

Like a hungry squirrel, her eyes dart back and forth before she snatches the cookie off the ground and crams it into her mouth. She relishes the moment until a devistating swallow marks the end of her salivary soothing. The guilt is overwheming and she starts down the hall. 

Finding a bathroom, she checks the stalls to make sure she is alone and proceeds to stroke the back of her throat with two wet fingers. With a cough and a gasp for air, cookie crumb vomit and whole noodles (leftovers she found at 6 am) flow out of her. Hitting the porcelain pool, water splashes back onto her face and hair, like a bullies spit.  

Exiting the stall, she glimpses her red conjunctivia in the mirror before jumping into action. Scrubbing her face and arms with wet soapy paper towels, she attempts to rid the bile stench. She wipes her hair the best she can and then ties the dirty mess on top of her head. When was the last time she showered?

“One last thing,” she thinks, “and then I can face them.”

Out of her coat pocket she takes a small bottle of stolen Adderall which she had previously crushed, just for this occasion. It keeps her alert, helps her focus, and suppresses her appetite. 

Sprinkling it on the dry porcelain sink edge, she grabs a straw from her other pocket, places it into a raw nostril and inhales the coarse powder. The power that surges through her makes her gasp aloud with pleasure. 

She hears footsteps and the bathroom door opens; simultaneously she drops the straw on the floor kicking it to the side and sweeps the remaining powder off the sink. She faces the sink to hide her red eyes.

“Doctor?” says the young nursing assistant. “They are ready for you.”

Satiated

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.
-LRose