Consume Me

by Chloe Roxburgh

Image credit: Greg Rosenke on Unsplash

I am an aching chasm of neediness. I am a black hole of consumption. I am an empty void. 

Fill me.

I live in the cracks between dichotomies and juxtaposition. Dancing in the spaces of

obsession. Tiptoeing around the edges of self-loathing.

I need to be liked, to be loved. Despite this, I am not a nice enough person. I am an

introverted extrovert. An antisocial moth. I need people to survive, but I fucking hate

them. I loathe people, myself included. Equally, I adore them. 

I am a feminist, but I need the male gaze. I am a needy fuckboy. I do what I want, when

I want. I am carefree. I do not need the opinion of men. I will degrade myself at whim. I

am a performing monkey. I want nothing more than the approval of men. I want them to

love me, to need me, to objectify me. I want them to use me. I want them on their

knees, begging. 

I want to make them fucking cry.

I will never have enough. I will never be enough. I want to be consumed.  

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Chloe Roxburgh

Chloe is a contemporary, conceptual fine artist and writer based in North West Wales. Her practice centres on emotional and deeply personal territory, exploring feminism, parenting, chronic illness, disability, neurodivergence, sexuality, and queerness.