The beginning of week 2 everyone! EATING DISORDERS. This week really means a lot to me, if not the most to me; so here it is; kicking this week off!
This poem is just about the way I see myself in the best and worst light. Kind of a notion to body dismorfia...but also just a little preview into where I feel I am right now. (Stolen poetry from past blogs and Kate Nash songs)
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If you asked me who I am, I’d probably forget to tell you my name.
Instead I’d tell you that my eyes are brown, and my hair is brown, and inside I'm brown like dirt.
That I'm shorter than my mother, but taller than some people in the world; and that I do indeed get mistaken for an 8th grader sometimes.
I'd tell you that I like walking better than driving because feeling the ground under my feet is an affirmation that I am alive and that I am connecting to something bigger than me.
I'd tell you that I think the sky looks too big at night and not big enough in the morning.
I'd probably explain that it has something to do with the fact that I wake up with every intention of flying and go to sleep knowing my elbows haven't sprouted wings yet.
But don't worry, I’d say, because I’ll wake up hopeful again tomorrow.
And if you were to wait around a little more, I might be persuaded to tell you I’d lost my mind seven years ago and would you be kind enough to help me look for it?
I'd probably tell you about the girls with teardrop-eyes who chewed up my heart because they thought it'd be aspirin and was indignant when it burned a hole through their livers.
I'd probably shrug and tell you my lips must be acidic because I never can kiss the same mouth twice.
This is probably about the time I’d laugh and tell you that I’m silly because I run away when I see what I most want.
I'd tell you that I’d rather spend my days messing up the puzzle pieces than enjoying the way they fit together. I'd say that most people think they're crazy but I know I actually am because I can't take a good thing and keep it that way.
I have a talent for pushing people away and lighting fires under bare feet.
But I’d shrug and smile because I really can't blame the people that run, and I blame myself instead for chasing them down the sun stroked streets.
And this is probably when you'd pat my shoulder and tell me I’m not so bad.
Here, I’d probably say I know, because to be honest, I think I love myself too.
But I wouldn't be honest because everything I said has been a lie.
You wouldn't know that.
Because who I am, is everything I don't want to tell you.
So sometimes, no every time I have to look in the mirror and remind myself that I screwed up again, I think to myself:
Days like this make me wish I was a smoker.
Because this tar I feel trapped inside, I'd rather be ingesting.
But then I remind myself about the cancer and black lungs and yellow teeth and I’d laugh because I wasn't serious.
But if I was serious, I’d probably tell you that I feel bad for the people who ever have the bad luck to fall in love with me.
I'd purse my lips and think and tell you that they're going to have to have a taste for uncontrollable frustration because I could promise them that.
And it's a shame, I’d say, because every morning they're going to have to pick up the same pieces off the ground that they glued back together the night before.
But its okay, I’d say, because for now, I really am worth it.
And don't worry. I'd notice the way you're checking your watch and I’d stretch and say the weather's beautiful and isn't it a shame that I have to leave?
I'd give you a hug and say what a pleasure it'd been to meet you and remind you to watch your tongue because you'll trip more often with that then your feet.
I'd pick up my purse and walk off thinking I’d look better if I was wearing a Grace Kelly inspired hat.
And I’d have forgotten you by the time I turned the corner.
That's about the time you'd remember I forgot to tell you my name.
But you didn't really need it to know who I am, did you?
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