Friday, March 11, 2011

Day #4

I am thin.
I will eat today.
Calories can't hurt me.
One hundred and twenty pounds is a good weight.
It's normal.
Normal is beautiful.
I won't be fat.
I'll never be fat.
I am beautiful.
Everyone wants to be as thin as me.
I will eat today.
Gaining weight is not the end of the world.
I am not fat.
I am perfect the way I am.
The girl in the mirror is a lie.
She's trying to turn you into something you're not.
Something you can't be-- don't want to be.
But I don't want to be like her.
I want to be the farthest from that girl.
I will not be fat.
I must work harder.
No food.
Plenty of exercise.
...
No.
I am beautiful.
I am me.
Gaining weight is not the end of the world.
It's good for me.
I will be somewhere over one hundred pounds.
That's a lot...
I don't think I can.
It's so hard...
I'm so thin, but I feel fine.
I'm fine.
I'm fine.
I will not be fat.


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Author's Note: I'm not sure of the statistics, but I'd wager a guess that the vast majority of girls (and boys too, for that matter) are self-conscious about their bodies.  I'm guilty of this too.  I've never gone down a path that this poem type of thing suggests, but I've deemed my days good or bad solely on if I thought I was skinny or fat that day.

Wednesday, March 2, 2011

Day #3

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven...


I touched the sink once.

...Two, three, four, five, six, seven...

That wasn't necessary... why would I do that?

Because I have to.  I have to.  If I don't, something bad will happen to me... or to someone else... even worse... I have to.  There is no question about it.  I have to.  No negotiations.  I have to.  I have to.  Why?  Because I have to...

My life is being put on hold.  I can't move or do anything until I reach seven, seven, seven, seven, seven, seven, seven.


"Is not seven the most magical number in the world?"

Magical, magical, magical, magical, magical, magical...


One, two, three, four, five, six, seven...


One, two, three, four, five, six, seven...


...


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Author's Note: I am guilty of watching Criminal Minds tonight... the episode was about a girl that had obsessive compulsive disorder.  She did everything in three's.  She started one fire, so she had to do it two more times, each time having a triad of three's.  So interesting!  Any way, that was my inspiration for this.  I felt really clever figuring out different ways to put seven's in this piece.

Day #2

BOOM!


Another rumble of thunder filtered through the house.  Mina hugged her knees closer to her chest as she watched the rain beat against the window and the lightning illuminate every window and room in her house.

Her family was gone for the evening.  They had a dinner party to go to an hour away.  She guessed that the storm wasn't as bad where they were.

Mina was by no means afraid of storms.  In fact, they were among her most favorite events.  It was an experiential thing for her.  Like being at a rock concert, but every time was her first.  Flashing lights and bursts of fire, screaming guitar music and drum beats that determined her very heartbeat.

She felt the house shake around her.  Even on the couch, she was jostled around where she sat.

She imagined that the rain splattering against the windows of her house was paint.  Splashes of orange, purple, green, blue, and red... she lived in a Technicolor house.  Every storm created something new.

Music and color were her world.  And she never intended to leave it.

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Author's Notes: This is what happens when I'm in an artsy mood and we're watching a movie all about lightning in physics.  Oh well!  What can you do?