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21 years
by Andrea ColtonThey brought me here.
Gaunt faced and
all clawed up.
Once, it was not so
sour;
not so stinging.
21 years.
but they
don't like me too much
anymore here
there or
anywhere...
They brought me here.
These remorseful, blistered feet. These
caved-in
center cut eyes.
21 years.
They'll sit in their
affected playrooms
-dinky renditions of
houses that grew
so tired they
split-
and make assumptions of
"too bad she
might not survive."
They brought me here.
My hands
my hands
my hands.
21 years.
Was I more than you
bargained for?
The apple of your eye?.
Oh. Oh mine
stupid adversary,
attack me
---are you scared?
I rip and I tear.
But, don't be alarmed.
Remember?
I might not survive.
They brought me here.
This pale left arm aloof
the right, only semi-torn.
21 years.
From your broken,
over-fed ribs I pitched-
made sure to leave your ego
only slightly sore.
They brought me here.
These ever dulling teeth
this pulled taffy skin.
I take what I can get
these days.
A cat scratch
cabin fever
A dirty trowel of
leftover inadequacy.
21 years.
Where was I
again?
I brought me here.
But you,
you are so sad.
You walk around a
stick up your back.
Head that refuses to
stay afloat
on shoulders too chagrined
to look you sideways
in the neck.
21 years
you'll be smoking the poor,
nicotine-less passersby
right underneath the table.
Chattering the flesh between your knees
just so.
Whispering so sweet
your abused little lie
only enough to
force the other ear to entertain.
Well, you certainly have gone
and done it this time.
21 years.
Too bad she didn't survive.
08/12/2010 Author's Note: This is the first draft. Long story short, I've had an eating disorder for about seven years and almost died earlier this year from it. I'm in "recovery" right now...if you can call it that. I'm trying to work out a lot of anger and resentment towards my family, my friends, and myself. So. That's all I can really say. I'll be making edits on this but, just felt the need to put out there...get it out of my head.
Posted on 08/12/2010
Copyright © 2024 Andrea Colton
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Aaron Michael on 08/13/10 at 04:45 AM poem notwithstanding, the concept that you wrote in your note is enough for me to applaud. If you are working toward being something that you once wanted to be, but were stalled, for whatever reason, it IS recovery. be careful of both what you leave behind and what you pick up on your road. <3 |
| Posted by Aaron Michael on 08/13/10 at 04:49 AM now, the poem itself.
This runs at a neck breaking speed for me. those 21 years tick by like the pieces in between seconds. And if there were ever a perfect place for those dashes i was telling you about, you used them wonderfully here. they seemed like fallen barriers in the wake of the attack you launched.
a wonderwrite on your road to recovering whatever it may be that you are looking for. |
| Posted by Stephan Anstey on 08/13/10 at 07:07 PM I enjoyed this. Thank you! |
| Posted by Johnny Crimson on 01/29/11 at 04:42 AM good write, no explanation needed. :) |
| Posted by Michael Faraday on 10/15/13 at 02:40 AM Well done. Enjoyed this. Very visual. m |
| Posted by Philip F De Pinto on 03/02/15 at 02:20 PM glad you got this out of your head and turned it into a poem. wonderful. |
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