when I see you like this I want to
force feed you pink ice cream until you vomit.
without your knee high boots and sparkly shirt that proclaims you
'bitch queen',
I hardly recognize you, this
pale child in a white paper gown, infested with
sterile tubes that drip life into your
brittle bird bones.
you open your mouth a little
in a silent coma gasp,
but the monitors that watch over you like
plastic angels beep steadily
and the stab of fear dissipates
into a dull ache, because inside the
soft wet cavern of your mouth beneath your
hollow cheeks, I can almost see cobwebs,
just like in the cartoons when the
cat or mouse or wascally wabbit
hasn’t eaten
in a very long time.
if you die here,
and some amorphous, misty deity of the afterlife
weighs your heart upon the scales of justice
you will flinch and pray the needle barely stirs
because every time you tip a scale
you're choked by the kind of fear
that should be reserved for people
being chased by things with sharp teeth.
when I see you like this I want to
rip up these waiting room magazines with their
paper goddesses of white bone and hungry eyes,
who have found faithful worshippers in millions of little girls
who pay them homage sprawled over toilets and crying over scales and
silently driving themselves to destruction.
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125,018 Literary Works • 672,857 Reviews
Brad, someday I'm going to find you and shove a box of fig newtons down your throat.
everyone else- thanks for the comments...this poem is probably the most personal i've written, and it's difficult to see personal things with an objective eye.
Well, I'm glad this poem wasn't for me, granted that it could be (I'm at 103! wootwoot!). Anyway, I already told you my thoughts on what to fix.
Powerful, intense, and painful. Eating disorders are no joke, and you have taken such a horrible mental disorder and put it into words in a way that I can't get a hold of. This...this hits too close to home for me to really critique it, but I understand. I understand the anger, the fear, and the wondering...I never want to see anyone like that ever again.
You almost made me cry.
Very intense and emotional... Really good...
Oooh. This is incredibly clever. Your descriptive wording gives a really empty, sterile, 'hospital feel'--it really helps mold the overall effect of the poem. For example, this line: "but the monitors that watch over you like / plastic angels beep steadily..."
Also, the line "who have found faithful worshippers in millions of little girls / who pay them homage sprawled over toilets and crying over scales and / silently driving themselves to destruction." was really poignant--and a great way to close the poem. I'm still breathless from reading it.
I'm really not the 'poetic' type, but I've really enjoyed reading your stuff. ^_^