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allyson-walshPoems
I see myself in her... Back when I was made of ice, Every slice and bite precise. Grandmother's collarbones like Soft skin cut by knives; birdlike. I see myself in her... The treadmill is her best friend. Against herself, she contends, Stuck in a world of pretend. Her own skeleton: her friend. I see myself in her... Grandmother chilled to the bone. Present summertime unknown. She's carving her own tombstone, Out of her sharp hipbones. I see myself in her... Was that how they looked at me? With confusion and worry? Was I the storm on the sea? Or the dark depths underneath?
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Nov 28, 2015
Nov 28, 2015 at 5:02 PM UTC
Grand Likeness
I see myself in her... Back when I was made of ice, Every slice and bite precise. Grandmother's collarbones like Soft skin cut by knives; birdlike. I see myself in her... The treadmill is her best friend. Against herself, she contends, Stuck in a world of pretend. Her own skeleton: her friend. I see myself in her... Grandmother chilled to the bone. Present summertime unknown. She's carving her own tombstone, Out of her sharp hipbones. I see myself in her... Was that how they looked at me? With confusion and worry? Was I the storm on the sea? Or the dark depths underneath?
For my grandmother and myself I'm sorry I can't save you. I'm sorry she whispers in your ear 24/7... and you listen to her. I'm sorry.
#love#pain#eating#disorder#hurt#ana#tw#ed
allyson-walsh
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allyson-walsh
Nov 28, 2015
Nov 28, 2015 at 5:02 PM UTC
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