i was hungry once.
not how it is now, being three hours since my last meal, but
hungry.
i mean
knelt to unforgiving grounds, prostrating and heaving involuntarily,
sharp talons gripping my gut from all sides.
acid burning within and as it left me
hungry.
four days is all it took.
just before that point, small rations from a two-ounce bag of shelled peanuts–
a gift from a stranger who saw my need–had
sustained me for a week.
i counted;
did math.
portioning them carefully, taking into consideration how many i might need to keep pangs at bay.
there were fifty-seven peanuts in the bag.
not knowing when
where
how
to get food again
i drank lots of water and
i ate
eight peanuts a day
an extra left,
in case of emergency.
*
the first thing i noticed was fatigue,
but a steadily increasing fog and cramp set in, so i welcomed sleep.
escape,
only to wake and feel worse.
bloated and empty,
i stared for long periods at
nothing.
thinking and saying
nothing.
moving or using
nothing.
'no energy to spare,'
i'd think,
then stop myself because the effort was
too great.
*
now, i toast a hashbrown,
pour my coffee,
and think all i can
about
what twenty-one weeks of food supplies rapidly depleting looks like, or
what a person feels after five months (or more) of hunger.
what can a person think or feel after being on the brink of death for so long?
what the fuck is wrong with those who watch (or don't) a population starve again and
again
and again,
and don't see the truth?
not to mention the bombs or
chemicals or
traps with
guns and their indiscriminate fire.
forced to starve, too?
*
who are we for allowing this?
decades, being silent through this?
funding this?
even as the images flood our algorithms,
we look the other way.
what level of psychological
emotional
spiritual
disconnect have we achieved to be here?
what modern
western
rugged
individualism has wrought
on our current climate
goes beyond what one might call sin.
but i forever believe in a
Liberated Palestine:
the catalyst to a liberated middle east, the
key to ending our empire and
liberation for all.
About the Creator
kp
I am a non-binary, trans-masc writer. I work to dismantle internalized structures of oppression, such as the gender binary, class, and race. My writing is personal but anecdotally points to a larger political picture of systemic injustice.

Comments (1)
I have no words to comment. My heart just aches