Two of my baby sisters get their period on the same day,
And I did not think
I could be so proud
Of two bodies for learning to perform a task they were bound to perform,
Nor so scared of what it meant for
The worry in my heart
Every time they walked out the door.
I did not think it was possible
To be so in love with a person -
to feel their fear and shame so keenly as if it were my own
In that moment of contrite confidence:
I need your help.
Is this how it feels to be a mother?
Mariana’s trench gaping with feeling so explosive it could topple buildings?
The instinct to protect and shield and teach,
To share the knowledge of a sisterhood that binds,
while praying that this would be the worst of their pain,
To see stretched out interminably before you their growing and leaving?
But above all the love that demands to make itself known,
That rails against the stall door and crashes feral onto the stage,
Heaving through your skin in a thousand pin ***** moments
That just about stop the tears from welling too noticeably,
As you take their hands and lead them to the bathroom door.

It is the midnight
of another year
That stole so much
from so many
And tore like rabid dogs
At our skin
And will leave us bleeding
On the asphalt
As the earth completes its race
Around the sun,
But this year I learned
What it means to be a fighter
Sweat dribbling in my eyes
Muscles screaming from the effort
Even when I have fallen to my knees
I am still here
I am a fighter because of this year
A warrior
And as the sun rises on the first dawn
Of the new year
I will raise my fists and widen my stance
I am ready.

You ask me what my diet is
and I am reminded that for three years of my life
All I had in my lunchbox
were jam sandwiches
Single slices of own brand bread
with scrapings of red in the center
If there was anything there
at all
And I tell you that I've never had a problem
with portion control

You ask me again how I stay so skinny
and I think of all the days I spent
rummaging through bare cupboards
Looking for something I could have
for dinner
As I tell you that I have always
been like this

You wrap ******* around my
wrist and joke that a breeze would ******* away
and I can see myself now
11 years old and 5 foot nothing
Pushing my sister in her pram
up a hill on the way home from
school
Straining under the weight
And I tell you that my body had
never failed me when it wasn't windy out

You demand to know why nothing I eat sticks to me
But I can't tell you how my frame
hasn't yet gotten used to being full
of something other than rage
And I don't think I would recognize
the girl who wasn't starving
and stuffing her face
So I tell you that I just don't know

You can't help but ask why I didn't just buy myself something extra
And I smile when I think of the small
amount that I had to spend
and the fiver worth of sweets it went on
that I handed to my baby siblings as I shut the door
to their room
On the worst day I can remember
Because they didn't have to be hungry too
So I didn't eat a single one

But I tell you that skinny is just a memory I didn't get to give back.

My Granny is 87
And has a new carer every week
Today’s woman is slight
But smiling
A South American beauty
Granny sits and explains
How the potato peeler works
And she beams
A bare spud in her fist
That this is something she has never used
That this is something she will bring home to her mother
That with this she could peel the world
And I believe her.