Current mood: Manimal
Tears flow down my cheeks into the bowl, crystalising the sugar. I spoon a clump and shove it in my mouth, my teeth cry out in pain the the sweet sugar coats them in it's liquid form. A burning sensation rises from my stomach when I swallow, yelling at me to stop the torture.
Over and above and down and under I crawl across the ground. The table a roof of my make shift house, a blanket for the walls. And I draw stars on the bottom and fall asleep in myself, clutching my belly, smiling at God.