Carnivorous — S. R. Quigley
poetry ☆
poetry ☆
To love is to sacrificially feed; I've salvaged any tangible meat off my bones for you. Bare and exposed, my internal layers are naked with vulnerability—I offer sustenance to you. Strip the flesh from my wearied skeleton because I've decided to volunteer all that is to my name for you. Engorge the tenderness of any lingering ounce of warmth and merriment that was conjured in my body, once.
Where desire orchestrates over the ambiguity of self-awareness, you will still lie bare with a clear conscience that your actions are not liable to the underlying sentiments of my nature. For your carnivorous demeanor will puncture and masticate my barren skin and digest the superfluous complexion of my infatuation. It seems, in a sense, that consuming the internal workings of my body (what makes me function) is betrayal; it's the biggest picture to paint. Yet, you don't hear me bending the will of your teeth for unfaithfulness and craving for something more. I am the silence that haunts you at night.
Unsheathed and discarded; this is what it means to be a girl (who loves dearly). Still, I will embrace what I am relinquishing of all my decency—I am a lamb.
So, gnaw at the marrow of my once-beating heart because when the feast has ceased, you will be well fed, and I will dwindle into resonance.
S. R. Quigley (She/Her) is a budding writer and poet from Central New York. Born in 2006, she has been delving into fictitious worlds through reading and writing. Currently, she has recently released her third book, "When Crayon Houses Break," alongside "memory cereal for breakfast," & "Growing Limbs: A Series of Writing," but has had many pieces published in small online magazines, as well as her own blog: Growing Limbs. She is currently enrolled at SUNY Plattsburgh, pursuing a career in Broadcast Journalism.
