Eaten Alive

Impressive in your eyes I seem,

but more Impressive yet are you

who believe in my life so vague,

filtered to exclude the truth.


My anxious fingers produce

what I hope pleases you.

I try to keep myself alive, but

by this Beast I am consumed.


In the belly of the Beast I lie

with my fears, my tears, 

my life:


the keloid Scar across my arm,

the Drugs I quit to come so far, 

the Psych Ward in which I was forced to stay,

and lay and pray until I found the Lord.


The Beast only bares its 4.0,

the Trophies that you admire like gold,

the Meals that feed its appetite,

for your sight, your approval,

your likes.








Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741