Chapter 1 - Sonnets I - V

I. "The fine line between caretaking and malicious manipulation"

Though I be large, and thou light by compare,
My love for thee, it blooms as summer's rose.
With every moment, every tender care,
My palm in thine, I feel my heart expose,
I am besot by thy alluring snare,
To drink upon the cream thou dost bestow.
Thy gentle whispers, brimmed with sweet despair,
Inspire me now to let my hunger grow.
Though I am caught, I cannot break away,
Thy face, thy touch, thy voice so hushed and low,
In each new morsel, more I choose to stay,
Yearning doth eclipse even gravest woe.
If love be hunger, let me starve no more,
For by thy side I feast, and do implore.


II. “F*ckpig”

But, soft! What light through yonder window breaks?
‘Tis the east, and lo, my feeder, the sun!
Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious snakes
That seek to cast their shadows on our fun.
Awake! Awake, dearest, to see thee fed,
By thy design, I fatten to behold,
Where once a figure trim, now spreads a bed,
Where lust hath laid its weight in fold on fold.
My body, once a canvas lean and bare,
Now bears the brushstrokes of milady’s heed.
A landscape rich in plush, succulent care
With foliage o’ergrown from thy sown seed.
In glutted need, our bodies intertwine,
Thy pleasure stirs this pliant flesh of mine.


III. "Simping for her"

Her glance, as misty silver pools, doth gleam,
And in its depths, a carnal thirst I find;
Her lips, as petals kissed by morning’s beam,
Doth whisper secrets to mine eager mind.
What if I am blinded by this pale dream?
For how can I judge when sight holds bias?
My wits, entrapped by her seductive scheme;
To spot her flaws seems awfully pious.
As Narcissus drown for his wat'ry bride,
So do I, as she feeds with constant hand.
Yet gilded glass deceives with truth belied
Than infatuated eyes may understand.
If beauty fades when seen through honest eyes,
I would rather dwell within veiled disguise.


IV. "150"

Thy cheeks once bone, now plump as autumn fruit,
With waistline ripe, thy limbs a supple grace,
In mirrored bond, we thrive in blest repute,
What once was firm, now yields a softer space.
Yet still, thou art the fairest of them all,
Thy radiance glows, though altered by our play;
A goddess grown. Thy charms hold men in thrall,
Each pound a token of our pairing’s sway.
I jest, my dear, for thou art ever fair,
No heft can mar the light that glints within.
Thy visage, as yellow peonies, rare,
Whether thou art slim or with double chin.
Indulgence shifts thy shape to some degree,
Yet thy beauty lives eternal to me.


V. "Better left in the fantasy realm"

Alas, I am he, the feedee forlorn,
Whose longing for a foolish dream doth swell;
For I arrive when she her love hath torn
From him who once in her embrace did dwell.
O! bitter turn, to show me such scorn,
To grant my wish, but not my heart’s release.
For she, who packs him full and leaves him worn,
Doth now belong to time, to age's crease.
With heavy sighs, desire burns like fire,
I look upon the one I cannot share,
In other’s bulk, I see her love entire,
Which I shall never feel, nor ever dare.
No feast is mine, though hunger is my fate,
By cruel design, I know my love too late.