Fruit Bowl (Chronic: Part 3)
(Finished October 25, 2021)

Paul Cézanne
My fruit bowl is empty and down the drain went all my nectars
I threw away all of my fruits and had no way to hide from this hunger
I stop my tears as I tell him of my fears as they seem so shallow
But oh, he was not there when famine in my guts did wallow
Oh, how low did I go down to my knees to be free of the clutches of my navel
And now my mind is coming to me again, doubting that I’m capable
Of enjoying the sugary sweetness of juices without the bitter taste of guilt
But oh, what a weak mind I know I have in a body so weakly built
And though I’m too weak to carry the sun in my veins
My stomach still carries its stubborn flames
The burn cuts through you, leaves you bare and molten
And has taught me the lesson that my blood will not always be my own
My fruit bowl is empty, please forgive me, I have nothing to present you
And I have no way to swallow my heart down my throat as you leave me in what you do
Take me with you, I’ll just feed my eyes, and feed my body with greater hunger
I’ll take the ache in my soul just to quench my mind of its wonder
Oh, no wonder the apples you picked were a sin in my eyes
Where you have gone is lost in secrets and lies
You’ve indulged in the milk and honey they’ve all had in abundance
Too long I’ve held onto these sour grapes in your absence
Silent nights after the sun sets away from me
And in its rise, I still have no way to be free
The sun has left all my fruits dry, and I take in all its light and still want to cry
And there’s no way to fill my fruit bowl again, even if I did try
I’ve been dealing with horrible digestive problems and, at one point, was worried about having a chronic IBD. You’d think that all this would affect you on just a physical level, but I must say, the mental and emotional aspects to all of this have been much more brutal. I’ve been feeling like such a burden when going out with friends as I always have to bring up my suffocating dietary restrictions, and at the same time I’ve been craving to eat like them and try different dishes in the several cities we’ve been to. I miss cooking and feel bored of the few dishes I can choose from. However, now that there is hope that I might be able to get back to normal, I’m still afraid. At a young age, I went through what could have been diagnosed as a food disorder, and now with all the weight I’ve lost with these dietary restrictions, I’m afraid I might not be able to free myself of them so easily; could this be a relapse? My mind keeps on going back to the avocados and plums that I had to throw out when I was at the peak of inflammation, and I wonder, will my fruit bowl ever be full again?