i first started hating my body
when i was seven years old
it was christmas eve
and by then i was too old to believe
in santa
but we still put out cookies and milk
for my little sister
and i asked my mom if i could
eat the cookies and have the
milk that year
she just looked at me
like i was an idiot
and asked me if i wanted to
get even fatter and be
just like santa

that was the year that i
also decided i hated christmas
i mean sure
i still loved giving and receiving gifts
and the family and friends
but the two week break and the
endless snow days were the hardest
because that meant that i had to
spend all day with my mother

because by then
she was done with being christmas mommy
all smiley and cheerful
and loving
only saying nice things
and had gone back to her
bottle and blunt

my fingers and toes were cold
as the years wore on
and in our white house
the toilet water in mom’s bathroom
froze solid
because we didn’t have enough money to
heat the whole house
but we sure as hell had enough money
to buy liquor

but liquor doesn’t make
a rumbling tummy quiet
and the warmth from brandy
only lasts for so long
before the sickness sets in
so i turned to vanilla extract
just a quick swig now and then
and i was warm
but not as warm as my little sister looked
with mom’s arms wrapped snug around her

and the canned food drives that went
on at school
i brought in what i could
giving up my lunch or dinner to
those that needed it more
but we were always on the list for
the food baskets
and the gifts from the school sants
and the cardboard boxes of
food from the church pantry
wielded nothing but
slits in my skin that burnt even more
with the cold
and dusty oatmeal for breakfast

it’s gotten better though
it really has
there is food in the cupboards and
in my belly
though i would rather not eat
but mom still comes home smelling of liquor
and christmas mommy still loves me
more than year-round mommy
ever could
ever will