Turn the Page Eryn O'neal Consumed by
La Brea treadmills.
350 glossy remindersó
Turn the damn page.

Onyx and heavy,
Night tar
Spills
From my pores.

The struggle continues,
Continues, continues.
12 steps and sweat
No chips, no cake.

Seduced by them,
Caught in their Elliptical,
AbsoluteÖ
Turn the damn page.

Guilt jogs
From my tear ducts,
Brands my cheeks
Melanoid.

Rowing
Head first,
Tarnished by images,
Glazed perfection.

Engrossed
Blankly,
She stares at me from page 62.
Turn the damn page.