...I found this short "poem" whilst perusing some of my earliest entries. Apparently this is fun for me, as I've spent the better part of an hour doing it.
I vaguely remember writing this. It came out of nowhere and found its way through my fingers and into this blog before I even knew what was going on. I'm glad I wrote it down though, because I kind of like it...despite the obviously depressing tone. What can I say? My best work is born of pain.
Measuring success in the loss she can see,
she calculates worth with seamstress' tape.
Clavicle, shoulder, elbow, wrist,
flesh so wretched they cannot escape.
You're fooling yourself, fueling yourself,
the food you consume destroys you as well.
Your fingers that search for ribs through skin
serve you most poorly in a long crawl to Hell.
You look super skinny in the pics you posted, even in the "I'm-not-sucking-in" ones! Maybe Ill do the pictures too, I doubt I'll ever post them though..
ReplyDeleteLoved the poem, and congrats on a lower bmi =)
xo
That poem is seriously... wonderful. Thank you for reposting it! <3
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