Every once in a while, I enjoy writing poetry. This is an old poem that I wrote when thinking back on the end of my first semester at college. At this point, my eating disorder was running rampant, causing me to take the next year off of school.
Although this was written about a year and half ago, this piece captures a bit of what I felt about my eating disorder. Looking back on this pivotal moment of my illness, I see how far I have come in recovery. Thus, sharing it seemed like a good idea.
Legs dangling off the examination table,
Disinfected white and
Weight charts watching from the walls,
Drip of faucet into a metal sink.
Clad in a paper gown, arms hugged for warmth.
Dress draped over my Education text book,
EKG leads like leeches leave sticky skin.
I lick my lips, cleaning chapped wounds.
Tonight, after sleep borrows my thoughts,
Classmates will chug Red Bull, forcing eyelids open,
Highlighter marks adorning hands,
While our survival of finals week begins.
Door handle jiggles after eternity passes twice.
The doctor enters, verdict on a clipboard as
Acid inches up my throat,
She utters “anorexia,” “heart,” and “hospital.”
Later, I wait on my living room couch,
Knees huddled to chest under a wool blanket.
Half-eaten burrito beside a mound of Kleenexes,
While cartoon slapstick on TV bleaches out thoughts
Except one: “I am killing myself.”
I shove another bite in,
Tongue smashing into mush,
First meal of my finals week,
Fork frozen in indecision after each swallow,
Eyelids a wall between me and my empty plate.