For DVerse Poetics, we’re writing about food. Anyone who regularly reads this blog knows this topic can be quite heavy for me. Even if you’re “recovered” from an eating disorder, it never really leaves you. The topic of food can also be fun, but I went the “heavy” route because this poem wanted to be written. Not sure if this is a “good” poem, but I put my heart (and my painfully-visceral feelings) into it, so here goes. Linked with JusJoJan day 11 as well.
In the beginning of our stream-of-consciousness Saturday post, we must have the words “In the…” What comes after that? I’m not sure. It’s past dinnertime, and I still haven’t written any poems at all today. Well, 2 lines of an acrostic, and 1.5 lines of another poem (not sure what form it will be).
In the back of my mind,
There is probably something
I still have left to say —
Something which one day
Was buried, yet buried alive.
Maybe that’s why
Anxiety won’t quite leave me,
Why it lives in my body —
It has more to say.
I was hoping to not write about anxiety / problems, but that’s what came out. At least I have actually written a whole poem today, finally.
This form is called a Tricube.
The earth quakes
And I feel
Lives life like
They still shake –
In my soul
This décima is for this week’s challenge from Ronovan Writes. The word is “stuff(ed),” which is appropriate considering that Thursday was Thanksgiving Day. Thanksgiving used to be absolutely terrifying to me because it felt synonymous with overeating. The last few years, thankfully, have been much easier. Even if I eat a lot of pie! It never completely goes away, but it’s been better overall.
This butterfly cinquain is for Brian’s prompt about shopping. I’ve gotten more relaxed about the things in the poem, but it’s still where my mind went. I think things have gotten better because I used to not think I was worthy to take up any space, more metaphorically, so I made myself take up literally as little space as possible. Anyway, I hate shopping, especially for clothes! Also linking with DVerse OLN.
When I refused to eat at my family’s table,
I was refusing the only way my father knew
To show love, feeding him a “Screw you.”
Anger ate me up inside, there was no room
For life, and happiness was crowded out.
Thank God I learned it was okay to take up space.
Not sure about sharing this one, but it’s what I’ve got today. Linked to FOWC: Table.
I know what it is to be hungry.
I know what it is to tell myself I am content. Continue reading
The MVB prompt, “Tags,” made me think of how the eating disorder made me obsessed with the size of my clothes — the smaller the better. It didn’t matter that some brands have different ways of sizing; if I didn’t fit into size X pants, then that was unacceptable.
Putting worth in the tags of clothes,
Thinking a letter or number knows —
Such a rough road, no smooth sailing,
Always thinking the wearer is failing
Therefore worn down, to despair falling.
Thankfully, a new way’s always calling:
No longer to sit so sad in shadows,
But to stand against what Life would oppose.