Food Voodoo (a self-portrait) – hour 19

There lit a scarecrow on the roof

where underneath I lived my youth

what did I know of naked truth

is it my inner child inside I’m fighting?

 

Now, I’m not comfy in my skin

nor even like the state I’m in

just wondering where to begin

instead of lies, pretense and innuendo?

 

Just wish the worry go away

stop hiding in this old charade

food always wins this game I play

instead of praying, eating right and living.

 

Each and every night I fail to prove

food I will refuse you

bound up in lies, my food voodoo

my mind will manipulate.

 

Cuisine’s my sensuality

it keeps me from my liberty

and almost feels like piracy

when I sneak-slither to the kitchen sometimes.

 

But suddenly, I feel surprised

that now my health is compromised

my God, today I’ve realized

that food is what’s manipulating me …

manipulating …

 

Now every night I aim to prove

food I will refuse you

breaking the chains of food voodoo

so it can’t manipulate.

 

Food offers me no loving way

‘twill never love me today

won’t let it try to have its way

to refuse you,

prayer and hope will help me always.

 

Now every night I aim to prove

food I will refuse you

breaking the chains of food voodoo

so it can’t manipulate.

 

– Sandra Johnson, 6/27/21

4 thoughts on “Food Voodoo (a self-portrait) – hour 19

  1. As a survivor of anorexia and someone who still has food issues even decades later, I love the purity of this piece. I wish you great success in your efforts to love yourself and your poetry, as those avocations often go hand in hand. Best of luck to you. Thank you for being brave with your truth.

  2. Very nice poem addressing your eating situation. I admire your bravery. The great thing about poetry vs writing fiction is that poetry is more personal and you have done that here.

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