TWENTY-FOUR
Nowhere girl
Such long-standing dysfunction
Heart unfurled
Pain like heavyweight punches
Chaos of wings
Inside my head
Bittersweet things
Sleep beside me in bed
Ten years, one hope, an impossible dream
And then he spoke, but how can it be
The words he said weren’t right but wrong
But perhaps after all the problem is me?
My hunger has grown too impossibly huge
I’m a woman with no one and nothing to lose.
It’s Wednesday. I’m at my desk at work, doing what I do best.
Obsessing.
I title the sonnet I’ve just composed “Hunger,” save it to the computer’s hard drive, and close out of the word processing program. Then I do the thing I’ve been wrestling with my conscience about for the past several hours and google Cameron McGregor.
I’m staggered when the search produce
