Eating gods paper

I won't call you a book

because the words on your pages stretch beyond the confinds

of sewn together paper 


I can speak the truth

even on an Island

I know he can still hear me

I don't need a human being

if there's a thousand prophets 

in my arms


Don't tell me this "book" isn't worth the starvation on an island

because you'll be starving soon enough

My eyes eat letters that curl inside my stomach like fishhooks 

and yank the devil out of me


That's what I need on an Island

because without it

I'd be lost


This poem is about: 
My family


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