rarely am i ever not hungry

i walk to my mother’s house
for lunch.
she bakes chicken
and roasts potatoes.
she steams broccoli.

we watch a show
and then we talk
for a while after.
she lets me
ramble on.
she listens to me.
i talk and talk.

when i decide it is time
for me to leave,
she gives me a bag
filled with cookies
she has made.

i walk back
to my small home.
i sit down
on my small seat.

not really hungry but
also never not hungry,
i open the bag of cookies.
like a child
i eat as many
as i am able.
still a child
i eat all that i am
allowed.

there is no one here
i need ask for
permission,
no one here
who will tell me
no.