Occasionally, I dabble in the realm of poetry. The following is a poem I wrote in August of 2022. If you or someone you love is struggling with an eating disorder and/or mental health, please seek help immediately.

Slip it over my head,
This new becoming
Existence of a women who never really got to be a girl
A rounded pile of snow and the thought,
"This will never end."

"This" became "then" and I started to fall.
Crash, if I'm honest,
Hitting one ledge of loss after another
On my way down.

Home. I knew it.
At one time--
A sweeping pear tree, that creaky fifth step,
the invisible ink written all over my bedroom walls
I wrote of how much I missed my grandpa and how my parents were getting a divorce and how I wanted to die
Translucent words screaming to be seen.
"This will never end."

My bony shoulders held layers of calsified grief
The only weight that held me down.
What I'd give to not be me.

I couldn't though.
I'm here. Still.
Weighed down by humanity,
By the realization that pear tree or not,
I belong.
I fit.



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