✷
All I can hear is the devil’s slurping
as fate force feeds me death soup.
It sounds a lot like silence, so
I slap skeleton spoons on the sides of soup bowls,
to try and scare away my fear, as
I'm fighting the urge to throw it all up.
I was full before my first taste, but
it’s rude not to consume the food your host serves you,
and I promise, I'm only a guest in this place.
✷
Isabelle Morrissey grew up in Connecticut, where she developed a love for poetry through her contributions to her high school’s literary magazine, The Lantern. She currently lives and works in San Diego, California. Instagram: @izzym98
