Poetry

Poem: The AN Body

Sometimes, writing can be a challenge. Your brain wants to focus on anything other than creative things (like homework, like laundry), and refuses to come up with even a half decent poem. And then, there are days where your brain rapid fires something that hits you right in the feels and is so true that you don’t want to change a single thing about it. This is of the second type. *spoiler alert* I’m definitely putting this in my poetry book.

 

The AN Body

Translucent skin,

paper thin skin,

skin webbed with

scars and soft

downy hairs

(for warmth,

for protection),

icy as an

Ontario winter covers

bulging, netted

veins that carry

blood that is

rolling like

sludge to a

heart that is

nearly dead,

withering,

deteriorating.

Beside it,

shriveled lungs

gasp for breath that

provides oxygen for a

brain that is

filled with

cotton balls

and obsessions and

the exact calorie

count calorie count

calorie count of

every last thing

down to

one single pickle

(small: 3

large: 5).

The body is

encapsulated in it’s

madness but outside,

the birds still sing.

1 thought on “Poem: The AN Body”

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