Forgive Me Mother

POST ADOLESCENT POETRY

As illness ravages your creation

Forgive me, Mother—
I’m just this great sandcastle
with intricate compartments
build magnificent,

that the salty lips
of the sea devours
in peaceful ambulations
undisturbed in its flow,

not even noticing
as it eats me whole,

leaving only wet sand,
quiet and tower-less,
on which I build anew
once I’m rooted again
with courage.

Though I can’t make
a steel fortress my dominion,
I am much more than
the fluid material that birthed me.

Aren’t we always, Mother,
shaped like the current permits?

And I wish I were
an anaemic infant still,
with arms like branches
and a head obstinate to the wind.

So, when against all intoxicants
I remain lucid — I’m glad
that my troops command my unit
and overshadow a tyrannical mind
to allow me to be: just alive.

Forgive me, Mother,
for the cyclonic tears
and the cataclysmic velocity
of my fears, invading the surface
of kind reality —

I try to mute them
for the sake of uncertainty,
but it spills from the lips
of my sea of sorrow,

still-grown from a fetus
to a majestic building
that is I — you know well
that all I do is strive.

Can we forget it all, for a while
and dwell in the semblance of fine?
Kept firmly upright, it might just
become yours and mine.

Thank you for reading. Anorexia is a desolate landscape in which I dwelled for about 11 years. I managed to extricate myself from its destructive trenches through hospitalization, therapy, creativity, contribution, and meaningful connection with others. If you are suffering from an eating disorder, I urge you to seek any help that you may feel guided towards. You are worthy of feeling the deep surge of love from within yourself. You are worthy of health. I send you waves of nourishing courage.

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