When I was bulimic
I could not hold down words
when I was an alcoholic
I drank standing by the stainless steel sink
pretending it was cough syrup
when I was an addict
blue pills became my muse
when I was a smoker
I pulled blue smoke into my lungs
spoke in hacking tongues
when I was starving
I pressed against you until struck back
vanquishing my urge with your violence
bending dominion, sating hunger
a lion taking his share, leaving bones
to gnaw through wrong moments
when I was empty I found nowhere to fill myself
though I tried sex, drugs and other recreation
drizzling against fastened door in outline of shame
when I was used
I let myself become a purse with an open mouth
when I was alive I did not feel alive
when I was dying I knew
how much time I had wasted
thinking of when
rather than why
and with whom