Having a Proper Meal.

Skip breakfast, no questions asked,

a routine I am accustomed to know and mask.

I barely notice or see the time pass,

early morning school, back to back all these years

made it way too easy to starve.

..................

Skip lunch, no one can see you munch,

swarmed by a bunch of people by the time the afternoon comes.

Oh, God forbid I let anything but air flow through my lungs.

Others seeing me eat to my heart’s content

has for so long been a shriveled quest,

I look at it with constant dread.

...........

Dinner time, I retreat home now,

time to make up for what I have deprived my body of until now.

Making the most of the alone time I have now,

I fill myself up in the short space of time I have now.

Filling up on nutrients? No, never—not now.

Satisfying hoarded cravings? Yes, quickly—right now.

All at once, packing it into my system,

I deserve to eat a lot while in hiding now.

..............

Stop now...

"You abuse me," my body says.

"But we are one," my mind replies.

"I couldn’t abuse you and not suffer the same fate.

I know not what you speak of.

I am devoid of this grievous pain you mention."

...................

My body, shrinking in the gruesome torture,

bound to a mind unperturbed by it all,

forced to carry the weight of repressed pain.

.................

Now my immune system fails me,

my mind relays a code my body can't play.

................

"Don’t make me," my body says.

"I can barely walk, but you wish I would run.

I'm collapsing—don’t you see?

Though you brim with strength,

I am here alone, drowning in the sea."

...................

You function though the breath in our lungs stops.

You remain here, though I be dead.

I am sure you will,

for you were created to be free,

to see the end and more.

The weight of repercussion doesn’t kill you,

while I am bound to an end, though I be free too.

Yet, I must carry repercussion on my bent back

and be buried under when I cannot atone anymore.

...........

So now, sit.

Have a proper meal.

Take care of me, for I am fragile.

My end draws near with every misfile,

with every neglect that you brush off.

It clings to my back, drawing me down.

................

Remember again to have a proper meal.

Chew slowly, savor the nutrients.

No skipping, no overfilling—

just the right-sized fillet.

I will nudge you when it’s enough.

I wish to stay by your side for long enough.

Play your part, dust off the weight you can,

imposed on us by this gruesome life.