Snacking

Oh God, I despise my impatient lips!
I hate my gluttonous tongue!
I grow fat on fantasies,
On sweet morsels made of sugar and lard.
It is not even time for dinner
And yet I cannot bear another bite!
What when the meal is served?
When I no longer need to sneak sweets
Behind her back
As though I doubt she is preparing any meal at all?
When the meat is laid out in front of me,
The scent of its wafting steam storming my olfactory?
"No, thank you. I couldn't."
Teeth already rotted out.
Diabetes begging for a sweeter course.
I snack all day.
I fill my mouth to slake the pangs of boredom.
I munch.
Devour.
I shovel it in because I cannot bear patiently
The mystery growling through my guts.
With each grumble of my appetite's greed
I respond with spoon and fork,
With happy meals,
With processed, heat-lamped products
Smothered in cheap cheese
And plastic condiments.
Gritty and crunchy.
Charred edges.
Frozen centers.
I've lost my appetite
As I wait for the dinner bell to toll.