this wendigo feeling/

this wendigo feeling
emaciated, desiccated, drawn
my spiritual ribs visible
through thin flesh taut
i prowl the forest darkly
ever satiated not
i wish i could this stop craving
inside my arthritic tight heart

a beast, forever hungered
with staghorns skull
here is my winter
withered and black
shriveled coal in my chest
head back, howling a hunter
skin so clear you can see
the empty within
waiting to be filled

eyes are hunger
breath starving cold
heal me of my winter
feed me
feed me
hold me old
Photo by Brett Sayles on Pexels.com

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