What a challenge to discern
between different shades of love,
beneath the surgeon’s gaze.
Am I enamored, or simply
safe within the confines
of your presence? Electricity —
or a grounded, warm affection?
Why must I cut us open so?
What about our coexistence
befits a keen dissection?
I cannot paint us faithfully
on canvas, gauze, or paper;
I remain chromatically confused.
I pray you do not take
uncertainty for misdirection —
I’ve naught but
with which to leave
our hearts perfused.
"There are times when I am but a nameless grave,
full of flowers that were meant for someone who wasn't me."
the bones were hard to give up,
they pushed out like daisies
caressed under the hounding
heart of a copper sun.
unbridled and undried they bore
zealous arrogance of themselves,
petals dripping ****** convictions
and vibrating like awful angels.
under cruel devices they tried to
soften my bones and mold thick skull
constructed of lackluster candles
on their last flame.
days passed like doctors and white nurses
examining old wires that pray tell
the routines, the stools, the teeth.
i am their Jesus, their Lazarus.
my hearse, my sheep keeper,
my pretty things,
i become the acrobat at the
finale, the last supper,
supplementing at the **** of my
recovery. i lay my skin down for all
of you to see: here is my breast!
my toad belly! my glass feet!
“You will never regret recovery.”
I am regretting every minute of it.
When I was 130 pounds
I was always jealous of my 90-pound mother
One day I told her I wished she was fat too
Instead of telling me I wasn’t
She said “that’s the meanest thing you’ve ever said to me”
my mom didn't have an eating disorder, she has always been naturally skinny her whole life, she is 96 pounds I believe
a gallon of water
and mint gum
makes me feel
more in control
than a blade ever did
i'm falling in love with this feeling
a feeling i've fallen in love with.
a feeling that has grown comfortable.
a feeling, pardon the joke, that i can feed.
the safety is euphoric