“She Is Not Me”
I feel like this is
Internal combustion
Spread thin as a
Wire.
One wing curved over
The other, the bird is
Sleeping.
This isn’t me- who
They say I am, who
I should be with this
Disease.
So ugly, the obsessive
Wish for a magazine thigh
While cutting into your own
Bones and flesh to become
A disappearing act.
I am the magician. I hold
The hat, the wand, that
Red velvet cape. I am
Aware of the precise moment
I need to fold myself
Into an origami girl.
That is the difference,
Maybe.
I am aware.
.
“Just”
I did not want to be
Here. This has to be an
Accident. I don’t even have
A problem, not the problem.
I’m just small boned.
It runs in my family, these
High cheek bones.
It’s an incredible thing,
My metabolism.
No, I don’t want to talk.
I can’t believe you can
Just do this to me.
Just sign a few papers and
Pull me into a sterile room,
With sterile stares and pencils
Scraping. I don’t do anything to
Make me this way.
Why can’t you just let me
Go home?
.
“One Follows the Other”
My heart is a bird
Beating hard to
Get out of my chest.
Out of this room
Where I lay on a
Cot shivering in an
Embarrassingly thin
Gown I can see my
Nipples through, down
The hall, out the door-
The doctor tells me
Severely that my heart
Is in danger of giving up
On me.
I think he is trying to scare me
But I feel hollow and I think
Maybe
I would be glad to go.
“Archer”
I watch their backs
As they walk away.
My mom is curved in
Like a bow, my dad might
Be the one to loose the
Arrow. I hate them for
Doing this to me, for
Destroying my tiny ribbon
Of control, for giving me up
Like a flea bitten dog to be
Tested on.
I’m told to lay down for
Blood pressure checks, to
Stand up for another
Blood pressure check-
And then I’m laying
In a crumple of dizziness.
I tried to say I have to get
Up more slowly. I think
I did. Oh hell.
They are telling me
I have to get an iv
Feeding me.
“Fine”
My day has been turned
Into blocks of time. I
Hate being told when I
Will do this or that. I’ll
Have bathroom breaks
That are supervised, three
Fucking meals and two snacks,
And if my blood pressure is too
Messed up, I’ll be forced to drink
Gatorade. I hate Gatorade. I hate its
Neon colors screaming out at me.
I hate the way it tastes. I hate the
Idea of being watched while I
Drink it.
It only gets worse: I have to
Go to therapy practically all
Day long, groups and by myself to
Stare at a wall. This isn’t for me.
I am not like them. I’m fine.
I’m fine.
I swear to god you are all making
A huge mistake.
I’m fine.
“Circle of Feelings”
First group therapy goes
Like this. A sheet of paper
Featuring emotions in a wheel
Is passed around. Every other
Girl seems psyched to see it.
Like, oh my god, do I feel
Vulnerable today? I frown at
The words, then at the other
Girls. The expectation is that
We are to go around in a circle
Sharing the words that fit
How we’re feeling.
I listen to anger and fear and
Pride in gaining half a pound.
When it’s my turn I just
Sit there feeling stupid.
Feeling nothing. I feel not
One thing on the circle.
“Fucked.”
“Do you want to tell
Us what you mean?”
“I don’t fucking
Belong here.”
“Reasons I should Get to Leave”
I don’t count calories.
I don’t weigh myself.
I don’t obsess over models.
I don’t exercise.
I don’t take laxatives or
Diuretics.
I don’t make myself
Throw up.
I don’t care what you think.
I think for myself.
I’m not this, I still have
My period.
Okay?
“Reasons I have to Stay”
I was signed in,
I have no choice.
They tell me
My heart is failing.
They tell me
When you starve
Long enough, your body
Starts to eat your muscles.
Your heart is a muscle. It becomes
Your unwilling dinner.
They show me charts with
Low iron, low this and low that.
They tell me I need to take this
Serious.
But it doesn’t seem real.
All that is real is my sudden
Total lack of control, total
Forced surrender, it feels
So broken it can never be
Fixed-
I can’t agree to any of these
Things. Not even when I
Feel my heart forget a beat.
Not even when I’m hooked
To machines.
“How do you be a good patient?”
This is my individual
Therapy session. I
Am so uncomfortable.
I could joke, I could stay
Silent. What would I say
Anyways?
Every bit of my turmoil is
Mine alone. She won’t
Understand. She has
No idea why, and a
Magician never reveals
Her tricks.
“Rachel”
Tell a happy memory-
I watched my baby
Sister sleep.
Her hands were
Tiny and waving to
No one, her toes were
Curled and her smile
The most pure of any
Smile that could be
Smiled in the whole wide
World.
I could hold all of her
In my two arms,
Feel her breath and
Sigh contentedly.
She won’t be like me.
She won’t, which is
What makes this the
Happiest memory I’ve
Got.
“Just”
I’m not unique,
It’s okay.
It comforts me.
Every star I see
Has been seen,
Every tear I’ve cried
Has dried on some
Other’s face, and so
Why should there be
Long goodbyes? There
Will be a hello somewhere…
I just know there is
Another girl who starved
For perfection the way
I starve,
The way I can’t count to
Save my life, forget it,
I just won’t eat anything.
I am not hungry now,
I know she’s out there with
A compliant stomach.
I covet her eyes, her
Long brown hair, that
Girl somewhere out there.
I covet her honesty, inside
Of her is not the smear of
A secret, it’s just nothing.
Just skin stuck to insides
So pink it’s a kiss of
Lipstick, so pretty. Why
Am I not her completely?
It gets away from me.
“Crystal”
Therapy 2:15
Her face free
I mean it was
All there
Uncaged
Brilliant and
Unnerving
The way she
Sat there tears
Trailing muddy
Paths through
Foundation
Her voice heavy
And breaking
What her father
Did I won’t repeat
It’s not my job
Is it my job
To listen?
Her story is
Carving a hole
Through me.
“Army Green”
He told me
He loved me
He fed me
Fruit from his
Family’s tree
So sweet, so
Bitter the heart
Beats.
We ran through
The orchards
Screaming and
Laughing
We ran through
The orchards
Where he caught
My hands in his
“I don’t want to
Leave”
He told me
He hadn’t long
Before he shipped
Off for basic
Training
He told me
I love you
I felt like I
Had to bury him
Mourning with my
Hands apple blossom
Held over his heart
He put the fruit on
My tongue,
I closed my eyes and
Felt his lips brush mine
I closed my eyes.
“It’s A Mean Painting For Here”
I could stare at
That painting for
Years.
Children playing
Flowers and
Kittens.
What the hell is
This doing here?
All I keep hearing
Are these coughing
Cries of girls with
Childhoods like rows
Of broken fences
Torn apart by hands
That they kept
Reaching their pale
Arms to for comfort
The fences keep us
Safe inside the world
Of consequence
Alcoholism was
Sandra’s parents problem.
They kept her bruises
Safely hidden from the
Social workers. She
Still loves them
She told us that
When she showed off
Her scars.
“Sirena”
Maria reminds me of
A mermaid,
Her voice is a
Lullaby being born
She sings soft songs
To me, while I lay
There getting my
Blood taken.
I hate the way it
Feels getting sucked
Out of me when
I used so much of
My energy just to make it
Just to get it
Sucked out by a nurse
Who tells me not to
Whine
As if I do this to
Myself. I’m not
Holding the needle.
Maria’s voice,
I never asked
For her friendship
For her do re mei’s
But she gives them
To me, and for the
First time here
I let someone
Hold my hand.
“Teenage Lightning”
Stupid things to ask…
Let’s get to know
Each other through
Mundane inquiries.
Who is your hero?
I listen to actresses,
Pop stars, social princesses,
Models who pose for
Gucci.
Do I have to participate?
If I do none of these
Bitches will know who
I mean
No one knows, not really,
Anyways.
Nikola Tesla. He means
Everything to me.
“Spider”
What does it mean to me?
Purity, nothing inside me
Muddying things, Such a
Fine web of control that I
Am spider over all. My thread
Thin limbs climbing
Towards the goal of
Spinning a way to hide
Even bones beneath
Such beautiful nettings
No one can stop my
Escape.
“Learning”
When I was a little girl
I ate an orange
Enamored with the
Color.
The beautiful peel pulled
Back to reveal such a
Sweetness it makes me
Weep to remember-
A perfect summer captured
In that taste.
Until I could not breathe,
Until I could not see
Beyond the bright spots in my vision
As I slipped into a half conscious state
My grandmother’s long fingers
Snaked down my throat.
She pulled out the fruit,
She pulled out my mistakes,
She pulled out my teary air,
She pulled me back to life.
The fruit of that tree’s
Knowledge was death,
She told me so sternly
To remember to chew.
What I remembered was
Not to taste,
Not to listen to a craving
Which could render me
Mute.
“Clothes Hanger”
Kara has
Five inches of
Dark roots
That she is
Obsessed
About
She twists
Blond blond
Strands around
Her finger,
Pulls up her hood
And scowls
Unmercifully.
She is so tall
And so thin
She told us she
Models
And she told us
She is sick of
Being a clothes hanger.
“I am Alice”
This is a madness
No caffeine in
This cup for a
Tea party?
I hurt myself
As best I could
Through the thin
Skin my nails tried
To dig
How can I be expected to
Suffer through any further
Indignity?
I lose myself piece by
Piece and the puzzle
Lays broken edges,
All I ask for is black
Tea, all I ask is a proper
Way to greet the bleak day.
“Truces”
My therapist
The one
Assigned to me
For my personal
Slavery of forced talkings
Her smile always
So damn genuine when
She looks at me-
Her name I forget-
Brings me an herbal
Concoction she claims
Is tea.
She sits with me
As I stare into
The minty green.
I tell her tea is
An agricultural
Product of the
Leaves, leaf buds,
And internodes
Of the majestic
Camellia sinensis
Plant.
And whatever this
Mockery is it is not
Tea, she laughs with me.
I feel my anger loosen
Despite everything,
She’s trying so hard
For me, And I am a shit.
Always,
She sips hers and
Offers that it isn’t so bad
I sigh and drink and sigh
Okay, Okay, Tea also
Can be a reference to
Any beverage made from
Cured leaves and water,
But believe me when
I tell you this is still
A bit of a mockery.
“Little fish”
We lay in a tight row
Like sardines,
Wrapped tight in
Blankets and thick
Fuzzy pajamas
Getting our blood
Pressure checked
Lay down, and close
My eyes to the other
Girls’ gossip, they
Try to include me,
But I have nothing
To say in the morning
This is a strange torment,
Laying so close to the others
Trapped between laughter
And the talk of having to
Drink ensures or not,
Of having to go to an
Increased nutrition plan,
Of family therapy sessions
Coming at the end of the
Week.
“A Standing Torture”
Now it’s time
To stand. I hate
How the blood
Rushes to my
Head and I hate
How my vision
Kind of wants
To blacken out
And
I hate how hard
I have to pretend
That I’m alright
When it all is
Making me want
To cry.
“Mystery Numbers”
Behind the screen
I’m shivering
Weigh ins are
Quietly tragic
With my body
Stripped down then
Clothed in a gown
That opens in
The back.
I step on the scale
Backwards, the nurse
Gives nothing away
With her impassive
Face penciling in my
Fate for the day.
“Impossible”
I’m handed two
Ensures with my
Breakfast snacks.
Two?
Just looking at
The cans makes
Me gag.
I’m Imagining
How the vomit of
This strawberry shake
Will taste.
“Am I incapable of Change?”
I take my seat
In the circle
Maria the Mermaid
Is the first to
Say something
Her black hair
Falls in her eyes
And she leaves it
There.
This is her fourth time
Here.
She can’t get it right
She can’t stop fearing
Cream.
She can’t stop her
Desire, for diaphanous
Skirts in dwindling sizes,
For hidden stashes of
Laxatives and cookies
In
Cream
She can’t believe she’s
Not done with this,
Standing on the verge
Of adulthood having her
Greatest fear be a family
Dinner.
“Blue Eyes”
I have never
Heard her say
A word,
This girl with
Thin ratty blonde
Hair and watery
Blue eyes
This girl stared
At her cuticles
And told us in
A dull voice
A steady voice
What got into her
What got under her skin
He did,
It was why she
Started to starve,
It was his name she’d
Carved into her arm
With the word
Hate and why it was
Continuing to hold her
Down-
The trial did not happen,
Case dismissed,
She was a drunk stupid
girl
He’s just fine, this
Guy who held her down
And taught her why
She needed to disappear
He told her he loved
Her breasts when he
Pawed them, and now
She lifts her head
With pride in
Watery blue eyes
Now
She has none.
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