Item Icon
\"Reading Printer Friendly Page Tell A Friend
★★★★★ (10)
Rated: ASR · Poetry · Personal · #1310702

This is not imaginary, oh no. Bulimia and I have been close in the past.I hate the media.

To the deafening tune of a punk rock band.
A waterfall behind curtains begins to
Tattoo trails along the ribs in my back.
I'm kneeling in the shower, praying for release;
Eyes closed, tears falling, vomit pouring forth
The pure clarity of the stream is now tainted
With needs, standards, expectations, and blood.
My heartbeat is ever so irregular and my vision
Swims more than my arms as I grasp for the curtains.
I fall.
What's become of me?
Lying in this shower in a pool of bile and blood.
Dearest society, I ask you, am I beautiful yet?
© Copyright 2007 Aimee Chicago (youdontknow at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.