Monthly Archives: May 2019

Blanch Guts

I’m may not be anonymous

I’m predisposed to mostly white.

Paled by  charming powder puffs

under any paltry day or night.

I may not be anonymous

I may appear big, small heavy and then light.

one little line of chronic

then it’s down & up  1000s   hillside slopes to cut the gluttonous lust.

It grows in fervour

diminishes all care.

If time is money

then it’s wasted to card dealing chancers

who think it is fair in the twilight

 to fight this addiction to an eating disorder.

 sizes me up

rounds me in

 Heard in

cattle calls

Not time to feed but blanch Guts away to her final slaughter.

Why do I want to change my hues?

 Tie Dye?

Or maybe these words are a whitewash of denial or a statement covering up a fat lie.

 

A poem from a strange daughter

If  foresight revealed you would  always  remain  my biggest fan

then in retrospect, I’m certain you wished that you had made a better escape plan.

I type these words weary & mothered out.

Wondering how I can still love a child who dismisses me without having to shout.

I do.

Mostly love

Mostly nag & figure motherhood out.

Is it worth it?

Life is fleeting.

these words would sound better if interpreted by a Geisha learning how to interpret the I Ching.

Silver linings

strive to find a purpose.

Whatever doesn’t kill you makes you may make you stronger

It also makes one weary and often a bit teary.

 I carry on the tradition

light  your cake as a reminder

that without you there would be no fire lit in my belly savouring the meaning of meaning.

Life is a celebration, a trial and cursed blessing.

I have no words to convey how much I have sinned.

To quote a wise lady I’ll be happy if I can be a quarter the lady my mother is when…

she draws the curtains on her solo performance of a life lived.

life would have been sung by the haunting blues & myriad cherubs singing ‘Elysium exists’ hymn after hymn.

Happy birthday –  psalm 58 to the creator of  hope & faith

a celebration to your mortality.

Insightful are those who keep a track of the moments lived in the presence

& know how to make all of it count.

Keep Livin

My body isn’t a shrine

Nor half as gory as the scene of a horrid crime.

It’s not that abortion clinic

beating hearts put on a foetus pant

in

mime.

It’s not pretty.

I don’t do chocolate box

Not in my city.

This image I have…

of a body in the stocks.

I may look thin. I’m a result of Eating disorders, body image issues & a wasted life on self-destruction.

Well… I’m not dead yet……..

(It’s painful to write about this cos I’m starving my body, mind & soul. I won’t give up!

So I’m going to eat some sushi & smoke a blunt.

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I don’t know how much I weigh. I don’t care to or dare to out of fear that I will feed even more into my “issues”.

I don’t look or feel good.

This is me today. Thin & far from happy.

A few selfies to make me feel tons better . (sarcasm alert)

Every day is a chance to start again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Love your body And don’t strive to look like anyone else. Talk about your emotions. Don’t internalise. You don’t deserve to hurt yourself this way. It is suicide. You may want to die & get close to it. You are here today. Make it count.

I’m out of here.

No masterpiece to find here… just words. It’s how I survive.HP-PIC-green-ribbon (1)