Untitled

humor? i don't know

When I was seven years old I stopped
eating and became so skinny that blue and purple
patches started developing on my
skin. I gradually leaked out of personhood and
became something subhuman;
something vague and undefined. I slipped
into small cracks in the kitchen wall
and mixed in with the furniture in the
living room, and when it came time
for church or dinner or to meet family friends
I would, not of my own will but also not against
it, slowly deflate myself into corners of the house.
My parents would come looking for me and I
would try to yell out to them and alert them to my
presence, but my mouth was seemingly smothered
by the surrounding atmosphere and my parents
would leave for whatever it was they needed to attend,
and I would be left alone, collapsed in an obscure
nook of my house. Then, one day, I bravely and daringly
pressured my now almost two-dimensional body
into crawling sluggishly throughout my house until
I reached the kitchen pantry, whereupon I
proceeded to eat at first little nibbles
of crackers followed by slightly larger snacks
like nuts and pretzels and then finally
I began to devour whole boxes of cereal,
entire watermelons, a package of apple juice
cartons. As my impromptu feast went on, my skin
started returning to its normal color and I began
to expand back into my normal size, like a balloon
hastily inflating itself. Lying in a heap of crumbs
and scraps that smelled both of shame
and victory, I heard my parents entering through
the front door. I was excited to see that
they had returned, as they would surely feel the
brunt of the bizarre psychological punishment
I had just inflicted on them, and would almost
for certain buy that new video game that I had
been asking for.