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A recorded reading of “Evernight Hunger”. If the player does not load, use the original audio source.
You don’t knock when you come through me. You arrive like shadow —no warning, just the weight of your absence finally coming home. It’s not love. It’s not lust. It’s that quiet, brutal hunger that fills every crack of me with want. Midnight used to be silence. Now it tastes like your breath, like the hum between sighs, like velvet promises wrapped around teeth you swore you didn’t mean to use. You take, and I let you. Not because I’m weak— but because I’ve forgotten what it feels like to not be devoured. Your name is carved in the back of my throat like a warning I never gave myself. I say it in dreams. I say it when I’m starving. And you come. God, you always come when the night is deepest— when my skin is tired of pretending it’s only skin and not an invitation to feast. You were never meant to stay, and I was never meant to survive you. Still, we meet in the dark. Again. And again. And again.
Lyrics
You come at night, in hunger's voice No words, just need without a choice Your mouth, a wound I learn to crave You never take—yet never save It isn’t love, it isn’t hate Just want that waits and waits and waits Evernight hunger, sink into me A feast of silence, skin and need You leave no mark, but I still feel The want that tastes too sharp to heal I call you when the stars go blind When sleep won’t come, and breath can’t find You crawl beneath my aching skin And beg me not to let you in You never leave You never stay You take the dream And slip away Evernight hunger, bleeding slow The bite I crave but never show You feed on me and still I plead For one more night, one more need
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