Uneaten Health
A Poem
there are so many fruits and vegetables I never eat.
the bananas sit on top of the fridge mushy and brown.
the asparagus inside grows a mycelium mustache and the carrots dry up like winter toes.
the fridge seems to be mocking me with all the good I refuse to eat.
why do I neglect myself this way?
opening little wounds just to shut them out for another day.
procrastinated healing turned into another grocery list.
