Oesophagus Fables

the bulimic in my building is back again
I know
because I hear a retch
sending out sound waves
through paper thin walls
as she bricks herself in
in misery
I can almost feel the fingernails
scratching
at the back of her throat
reaching down
to bring up
those groceries
that were packed into bags
in the store
and stuffed tastelessly
into her oesophogus
ritually
on the floor
swallowing wholesale
the inadequacy
and loathing
until the only thing she feels
is full
and void


*toilet flush*