Standards written on my skin
Scribbles of what I should have been
Measurements and numbers
Mark my feet to my shin
Words written on my chest to my chin
‘You’re not good enough’
Whispers faint and thin
Whispers coming from within
A hollow body, a trapped mind and soul
I’m losing control
Am I what you see me to be?
Like a delicate tea cup
Worn and chipped
One more crack
And I’ll no longer last
A broken mirror
At my feet
Now all I see
Is the fear that consumes me
Wow. This one hits hard. It’s written so well, but my god, it strikes. Great job, are you okay?
Thank you. I’m ok. This poem just is like what a bad day with Anorexia is like. I just stand in the mirror and see what is wrong with me and my body. I’m grateful it has gotten better so that there are only a few bad days now, and not having it consume me everyday anymore.
I know how that feels. I’m happy to hear you’re getting better though.
Awh I’m sorry you feel this way, Grace, it’s a beautiful piece, and I hope things get better for you. Stay strong, things like this is an uphill battle, but one of the best things about a hard climb is once you get to the top, you don’t have to climb anymore. 🙂
Thank you
This is so vulnerable, Grace. Thanks for sharing. It makes me think of 2 Corinthians 4:7 “But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us.” Like jars of clay, or delicate tea cups, they’re all breakable and temporary, much like our bodies, which you have known and struggled with even at your young age. Beautiful part is that God knows it’s just for now and He, by his surpassing power, has given us all that we need. For those who love Him, He has promised that one day these jars of clay will be resurrected.
Thank you so much Qua 🙂 Miss you a lot