/ˈhəNGɡrē/

An empty void fills me

Pressing outward like

Expanding ice left

In a flimsy, paper cup.

My cup runneth over

With the sheer vacancy

Contained within,

And the anxiety that is birthed.

The anxiety stems

Like a branch from a tree,

But my body's language is

Mandarin to me.

They say to not fret,

Forgive and forget,

But it's like playing a duet

With a cheap pipette.

The feeling intensifies,

Growing lengthwise

End over endwise,

As eating is necesitized.

Feeling drains from my limbs

Towards the black hole of my stomach.

Maybe just one bite and I'll be done.