Dear Marlo,

Drum, Drum, Drum

I’m like a spy

Drum, Drum, Drum

I sound like I'm steppping on clouds in the sky

 

So I run into the kitchen

As sly as a mouse

Hoping mom doesn’t see me

Gulfing down the pantry of the house

 

I snatch the spoon

peanut butter too

sit there like a prisoner, a prisoner of food

 

Chocolate tans across my taste buds,

Melting as if on the sun

Like Pavlov’s dogs, there’s a saliva flood

Then candy slides across my tongue

 

I saw you last night, not down even one single pound

I’m in the same place as last week-- forced to wear a frown

tears roll down, they drum on my cheeks

What did I do wrong? What piece of hell did I eat?

 

Now you ask me a question I dread

“What about food makes you so happy?” you said

 

It can’t be something too easy to say

It must be something strong that carries me to my nightly pantry buffet.

 

An escape from reality is truly what I seek

And food does that for me every day, year, and week

It replaces my worries and leaves me in bliss

It’s my drug, it’s my addiction, it is my happiness.

 

This letter was for you,

I expressed what I felt

Now I’ll throw it in the toaster

So like cheese, all the words will melt.

 

You’ll never see it,

But I know that I did

And that’s all that matters

For from my emotions and inner thoughts, I’ve unlatched the lid.

 

 Xoxo-

Your complicated patient