X-rays always made her feel like a model,
The doctor always taking her pictures.
She always posed.
Every imperfection, every flaw in her porcelain skin,
They refused to overlook.
They had to inspect her,
Make sure she wasn’t contagious.
“Drink this, eat that, take these.
Let us shove tubing down your throat
So we can find you another pill”
And she was absolutely sick and tired
Of all of the rules and tubes and wires
And people she didn’t know touching all over her,
Making her feel
“Better”
It made her feel exposed.
Cold.
Like she was some
******* bunny for a physical health magazine.
Her nostrils were stained with
The strong scent of hand sanitizer.
And she couldn’t keep the hospital food down,
And the shower was always freezing cold…
But at least they could make her feel
“Better”
Erasing the taste of
Copper anorexia at the back of her throat,
She’s just an experiment.
