Coming to terms with
My limitations
Extracting elements of
My environment
Simplifying as means of survival
First comes the rush of energy
An amazing future reflected
In this new curated path
Seasoning every bite with hope
So why, as I envision the past
No more than a ravaged carcass
Do I long for the cold
Comfort of faded flavor?
The toothsome rush of tearing meat?
For the frothy head of cream to
Drip down my chin
Depositing on my sleeve?
Why do I pine for sensations
That can never again
Dance across my tongue?
K.B. Silver
Since I've become an adult, and gotten information directly from my doctor, not filter-fed to me through my mother, I have found I have a host of food allergies and sensitivities. Sixteen that I am currently aware of, but I can tell I need to get tested for more.
Some of these include Gluten, dairy, all cow-based products, actually, which means no gelatin, collagen, or even wearing leather on my skin is a problem. Anything that is produced by a palm tree, so no coconut anything, no dates, no palm oil. Then there are the vegetables: cauliflower, tomatoes, spinach, and avocado. Sunflower! Sunflower oil is the latest cheap oil that has been added to everything I used to eat.
I don't eat out, and I have to read every package every time, because corporations love changing ingredients whenever something cheaper comes along. The changes, time, and energy aren't really the hard part though.
Never eating pizza, ice cream, or any of the recipes I consider comfort food again, that is the hard part. Never eating out with friends or family. Not have any options for getting something quick and easy when I'm sick. Having to turn down any food gifts or offers people might make to help me out by cooking. Being completely removed from the rest of the world's food rhythms and the joy and energy that surround them, that's hard. No, getting questioned and accused of being finicky and difficult, when I am just trying to survive, that's hard.
About the Creator
K.B. Silver
K.B. Silver has poems published in magazine Wishbone Words, and lit journals: Sheepshead Review, New Note Poetry, Twisted Vine, Avant Appa[achia, Plants and Poetry, recordings in Stanza Cannon, and pieces in Wingless Dreamer anthologies.
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By Rachel Deeming7 days ago in Writers
Comments (3)
🌼The strength within your periodic sentences really held me to every word. I felt the weight of cravings that no longer have a home, and the flow of your asyndeton made the list of restrictions feel annoyingly relentless. The harsh reality of your dietary needs arrests me with sympathy. 🌼Empathy clings to me because I know how isolating it feels when the body turns against you and every bite is a battle. You cannot please your own systems; you cannot accept the simple help of a shared meal; you cannot even wear leather without a gasp. It is heavy, I know, this complex physical reality.
Omggg that's so terrible! I'm a vegetarian so sometimes, I decline offers and invitations because I don't wanna trouble them by trying to accommodate me. So I get how you feel, but your restrictions are way more severe than mine. Sending you lots of love and hugs ❤️
I think you just landed in the wrong planet. That's all. You should fill a complain and send it over to the Mother Ship, telling them to check again what the delivery instructions said about your dropping location coordinates. I bet they will be like "....damn..." Stay strong, K.B.!