The more I expect the less I get. The bigger the appetite the more I forget just how much my stomach can hold, the way you used to hold me is inadequate, the food I liquidate makes me constantly hungry, so I eat even if there is no space to taste how delicious this all is. I can only feel the hunger now, and the fatter I get the more empty I feel inside, where you used to be, when I was capable of feeling still, the constant Americanization of requirements for emotional fulfillment, what am I seeking, the trophy of winning or the joy of playing, because right now I am losing on both fronts, and the war has gotten stale, the soldiers wasting away, I see you: seasoned and reasoned, walking away, having seen that this war is done, even if it isn’t finished