Temptations

The fork and knife wait,
I fear.
My brain says, “no”
but my stomach cries out, “yes.”

I am a fish,
soon to be hooked by a piece of tempting bait.
For once, I have tasted
I am trapped and unable to squirm out.

The clumps of fattening particles, still sit on the plate.
with hesitance, I finally
lift the fork to my lips.
My mouth opens, and the tiny pieces
slide down my quivering throat and into the empty pit.
I cringe and anticipate the cleansing ritual.

Down below is now bloated.
What do I do with this big, round bulge?
maybe a dozen tiny, pink pills
or a finger down the throat?
I have sinned; I have fallen into temptation.
I do not deserve to indulge.

By
Monica Ibarra-Robbins