Heartache for Dinner

Updated on April 14, 2018
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Khriscelle is a student at the University of Toronto pursuing a specialist in Anthropology. Here, is her quiet dabble with poetry.

"I really want you to come with me..."
"I really want you to come with me..." | Source

I'm very hungry, Charlie...

Dinner

Serve me dinner

I am hungry

Flesh and sinner

How I want more than

You can cook for

I want dinner


Heartache

Served for dinner

Made for no one

But here, a sliver

Of my dinner

I made for no one

just for me


Heartache

Served for dinner

It’s disgusting

Revolting and bitter

But I want more

I want dinner

Serve me dinner


Dessert

Waiting kindly

She’s so pretty

So inviting

And I need her so

Dinner

Give me dinner

So I can feast upon

And have nothing bitter

Only after

Can I win some of that


Sweetness

Give me sweetness

I want sugar

Honey

So now I took her

To the table

To serve my winners


Dessert

On the table

Isn’t she sweet?

Isn’t she able?

To give you every pleasure you’ve hope for


If you

Have not finished

Eat your dinner quick

More diminished

Make some room

For the dessert

Now we serve…


Crème brûlée

Mont blanc

Paris’ best

More flan?

Petit Gâteau

Sugar pie

I want more

(Just one bite)


But I’m so full

So satisfied

I am modest

And I make sure

That I keep her

Keep her safely

I will save her

For the family

How I love her

She’s so exquisite

But I save her


So if you want more

Please have more dinner

I have made more

For all sinners

Have more dinner

Please (for me)

But none for me


Too vicious

Something rots inside

It is cold

And so I only bring home

Dessert

Fold her nicely

Keep her sinner

Side away from me

I can’t take her


No more dinner...

No more dinner...


I was hungry

I was aching

I wanted more

For the taking

I am famished

I am weaker

I need dinner


Heartache, on the table

Served for everyone

At the table

He did not plan an

Exquisite hostess dinner

For no one


So since you’re here

Enjoy dessert

Taste her sweetly

Make her, crave her

She is made with love

But we don’t want her

She’s not dinner

© 2018 Khriscelle

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