Eilish Forwells

The demon in my gut is trying to escape.

Its slimy form is creeping up my throat, rocking my uvula and slipping between my teeth. It drags a sour taste along on my tongue, stinging the fat flesh of my cheeks.

I want to release the fiend, but instead I find it with calloused fingers. It bites into my flesh. Pushing through the burn, I shove it back into the cavern of my gut, into its prison where it spits with wrath.

Swallowing my bitter pill, I erase: “You’re a fucking idiot Karen.”

—Eilish Forwells