04-22-2017, 02:24 PM
There's always pain, the ache
of a hollow body, but it's mine.
Grandfather tried to shove
a Cheeto into my mouth.
He overheard mom and grandma whispering
about how perverse my mirror is,
how it must be replaced, and how to trick me
into eating again. He decided
that no trick was needed, only brute force,
his face contorted by disgust.
What was that look for, I wonder?
Because I upset grandmother?
Because I am ungrateful?
He never made much money
and my mother was often hungry
when she was my age.
But there I was: resisting
what he would joyously accept,
my teeth clenched and my body closed.
This body may be dying,
but it's mine.
of a hollow body, but it's mine.
Grandfather tried to shove
a Cheeto into my mouth.
He overheard mom and grandma whispering
about how perverse my mirror is,
how it must be replaced, and how to trick me
into eating again. He decided
that no trick was needed, only brute force,
his face contorted by disgust.
What was that look for, I wonder?
Because I upset grandmother?
Because I am ungrateful?
He never made much money
and my mother was often hungry
when she was my age.
But there I was: resisting
what he would joyously accept,
my teeth clenched and my body closed.
This body may be dying,
but it's mine.