He terrorizes my mind.

I’m not sure if it is truly him,

or me, that causes

or allows the manipulation.

But it builds.


There are times when

it is not so strong,

but the thought process

becomes a learned reaction,

so whether it is true or not

doesn’t matter.

It is always there.


He’s in my mind.

His needs, his desires,

the lack of feeling,

disturbed needing,

yet the refusal to accept



I can’t react

in a normal way,

for he is a child

with no desire to love,

only taking and needing,

leaving nothing

for me.


Each day that goes by

builds fear.

What will he take from me


The incessant eating

of my sanity.

The loss of trust,

this empty,

womanless shell,

that encases nothing

but his hell.


This will not end well.


He sucks at my heart,

sips my blood, then spits

it out. Laughing,

he enjoys my pain.


A succubus.

A parasite.

A mind fucker.


Is it my thoughts

that created this



Or, did my thoughts

blind me, from the truth

that is very real.

Numb and surreal,

accepting his abuse,

learning not to feel,

enabling his pain

to be my only meal.


And I’m hungry… so hungry.

Author Notes

15 Comments for “Hungry”

Karen Holt


Hi Rebecca, this is a hard hitting and wonderfully written poem. The blend of vulnerability, resentment, guilt and fear is spell binding. The canvas of pain is there to see. It connected with me in many different ways, a piece you can be proud of. 🙂 Karen


Thank you so much, Karen. “Canvas of Pain” Wow. That’s exactly what it is. I can tell by your comments you do understand it. I just hope you don’t have to live it. It continues to be one of my favorites…

Doug Langille


This has always been one of my favourite poems by you, Becky. It’s visceral and the profanity hits raw and apologetic. It was good to read this one again.

Leave a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *