The Debris of My Heart

Red and Dark

ten and blessed, she was

happy body with clean and pale skin

happy feet travelling like a wanderlust

happy face with no wistfulness

happy eyes that were always looking withered

happy lips curved widely

they all loved her

thirteen and tormented, she was

too lardy

too unpicturesque

too mossy

too cloddish

they all said

fourteen and nothing changed

she faced the mirror and heard voices

less, it whispered

lesser, they said

more less, they hissed

she squeezed her paunchy venter

one hundred and fifty days,

she tried to be thin

pretty

beautiful

worth loving

enough to fit in

but it was not good enough

so she kept trying and trying and trying

may first two thirty in the afternoon

her sixteenth birthday

tank into long sleeves

sweat pants into long jeans

long midnight hair covered her shoulder

genuine sadness into fake happiness

took the knife to cut her cake

may second two thirty in the morn

sat in the bathtub

pale skin

sore eyes

slender hair

thighs of lines

took the knife to cut her carpus

shed blood

the demons did to her

drowned her in red and dark

c.a