Sometimes hunger grows teeth. It can bite across the grain, the grooves of life’s patterns. It can take what you think you know and scrape it into shavings, drop it on a rotting floor.
It can leave you feeling warped and weak, fearing you will fall through to something awful underneath, like a new, grotesque form of yourself that is unfinished and raw.
I say let the hunger feed.
Let it whittle, let it chew all of your tough bark away, let it expose the tender pulp inside of you, let it kick-start, let it tend to new growth from within as its sap of new life settles and absorbs your mind.
Hunger for more.
Refuse to fit in.
Be the mismatched, colorful chair that shines in the corner refusing to earn its rightful place at the table.
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*originally published Aug. 2016