The Bitter Taste
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